KOTOR I: A Scoundrel's Tale
by Tw1st
Summary: FEMALE REVAN/RevanxCarth: True Baill is a female scoundrel who fumbles into the midst of a terribly rediculous mission... ergo finding herself stuck in a group full of difference, uncovering lost Star Maps. This is her story.
1. The Beginning to a Terrible End

**Title: A Knights Tale**

**Rating: PG-13 **

**Chapter Summary: **Taris. A city-wide planet with nothing promising afoot. When an escape pod crash-lands with two Endar Spire escapee's, leaving the two strangers stranded together in a desperate search to find the lost Jedi Bastila Shan, things become rather interesting.

**WARNING:** The personalities are probably not canon. In fact, I take that back, I'm most certain half of their personalities aren't. So, if you're going to be upset about anything, don't let it be that. There's a point to writing these things yourself – it's to make it fun and unique.

**Disclaimer: **Pointless as it is to state: Other then their really odd personalities, the characters in general are not mine.

**Author's Note:** So, basically I find the events on the planet Taris ALMOST as boring as the events on the Endar Spire – oh, and look, the Endar Spire scenes aren't even IN this story!! So, in other words, if you find this chapter to be rushed and confusing, well, that's because it is – I just found it to be one of the more if not most important things to put in as a start.

Oh and I write this at night, which is my only free time, so I most certainly have typo's. Tell me when you see 'em.

**The Beginning to a Terrible End**

--

"**Fear. Fear attracts the fearful, the strong, the weak, the innocent, and the corrupt. Fear is my ally."**

_Yellow and red sparks flashed across the slick floor. Computer modules in every corner flared blue screens beeping and sputtering the words _ERROR _as the vessel shook and screamed. A young woman with brown hair threw all of her might into a blow with her light saber, slamming down what seemed to be the last remaining dark-robed spawn. She then raised soft hazel eyes to something blurred out in the distance, calmly readying herself for a final encounter… _

Purple clouds trailed across the endless sky, coloring the backside of many soaring pods and ships while the planet settled into night. However, the upper cities of Taris were never completely dark, with all of the flashing lights from transportation and obnoxious advertisements. It was a remarkable trait that the inheritance of this planet ever got any rest. After all, the south apartments were - conveniently - right in the middle of all of the city's commotion.

Grey eyes scanned the civilian population, far below the beaten up and abandoned apartment – or the 'hideout', rather. A pale finger tapped absent-mindedly against the thin glass, erupting a small rhythmic beat among the other annoying sounds of the Upper City. _One, two, three… one two three…_

The Upper City was a mentionable place on Taris, from what she had found out so far in her wanderings around. Upon examination it was obviously inhabited by the wealthy people – seemingly restricted to humans only – with South Apartments that of which held host to very disrespectful snobs.

In a very unnoticeable movement the young woman sitting cat-like in the windowsill lulled her hood-hidden head slowly around. She fixated her hidden blank eyes upon the only other human in the heat-box-of-a-room, and blinked idly. _He_, upon who she gazed, seemed unfazed by this blaster-stare. _He_ was sitting in a chair, staring readily at the entrance door – the only door – as if expecting someone to barge through it. _He_, with his boot-heavy feet resting against the nearest wall, chewed the inside of his stubble-infested cheek. _He _was Carth Onasi.

The woman had known him for a week, and was already sick of him. His lack of life, lust, or longing for anything other than battle and business was not only irritating, but also annoyingly respectable. If she could have had any such passion for work as he did then perhaps she wouldn't be the low-ranking scoundrel she was; winning pazaak games, and smuggling credits and food off of poor people.

She had met Carth upon the _Endar Spire_, a republic vessel that was apparently assigned to carry the skilled pilot and decorated war hero, as well as the famous Jedi, Bastila Shan. This ship had been on its way to destroy the world's Sith-occupied invasion, planning to assault with Bastila's battle meditation full front. However, this vessel was not as grand or as powerful as most of the pre-Malachor V Republic capital ships, and was completely annihilated above the planet. Hence their current dilemma.

"What exactly did that twi'lek merchant tell you about the upper city?"

Brown eyes looked narrowly passed his two streaks of dark hair, examining her with utmost annoyance. Of all the things she dared speak to him, it had to be a repetition. "I have told you twice already."

"Tell me again." Snapped the former female scoundrel, stiffing a yawn.

_Gods, help me. _Mustering up as much patients as possible Carth pushed a sigh past his thin yet dry lips, and dropped his lazy feet from the wall with a loud 'clank' on the shined floor. "He said that the upper city had a cantina, which is famous for its dueling ring owned by some hutt." He paused to recall. "There's also a droid shop, an equipment emporium, and a medical facility. Oh, and a Sith military base which is heavily patrolled by Sith troopers… are you even _listening_?"

True Baill, a well-known scoundrel brought into this mess by a silly request from an over-rated Jedi, clamped her jaw shut from the over exasperated stretch. "Yes, yes. Cantina, droid shop, sith base, medical facility. I get it." It was nothing new. They had both walked around the entire upper city and visited every shop he had named. Apparently the locals were going to be of no help… except for the alien that spoke of a Gadon Thek who "Might know something about a Jedi", but they couldn't gain access into the Lower City to see him anyway.

"I suppose I'll go search some more, then." Search. _What are we searching for, anyway? Bastila, hiding under a Sith uniform? Unlikely._ The most they'd been able to uncover in the past week was the republic soldier crash survivors, hidden away in the medical facility being treated until death by the kind Zelka Forn. However, even though she had inwardly convinced herself that nothing would be found in this continual search, getting out of the hideout for a little while would probably be nice.

"I'll come with you."

The rushing buildup of reasons for True to _not_ want Carth to come along with her was endless. Aside from the fact that they both had hit it off from the beginning rather awful, she didn't see his presence was particularly necessary. But with the preceding time it took for her to think about how much she'd hate for him to come, he was already out the door.

Grumbling something wicked to herself, the thin woman tossed the black hood of her tattered robes farther over her face and shuffled after the pilot. Strolling quickly past him, as if to take the lead in a pod race, they walked down the wide circular hall that promised to lead nowhere. The only being inheriting the hall was a twi'lek merchant – who was absolutely _convinced _True knew nothing about energy fields – and that was about it. This was much opposite to the ruckus of the first day they'd left the abandoned apartment, where they had endured their first real Sith run-in, and only narrowly escaped trouble when a surviving alien offered to clean up the mess so that it appeared as if the patrols were killed 'elsewhere'.

Taris's humid atmosphere welcomed True and Carth happily as they exited the south apartments and entered the city. Many people walked around in a busy clutter, meshed into the crowd with tall shiny Sith patrol. Some of the locals were scattered here and there chatting in monotones and giving the duo suspicious looks.

As she trotted ahead of him, Carth watched the bottom of the scoundrel's dark cloak flip playfully at her heels. She was a very mysterious woman, only taking the time to reveal her name and occupation to him when they had first landed on the planet, so he knew little to nothing about her. Considering the fact that most of their wandering around had been separate from each other, he really hadn't even spoken more to the scoundrel then some informative conversations about the planet. Still, those seemed to just irritate her know-it-all attitude, and the only thing they had managed to pry into the 'common' category was that they shared a longing for departure off of Taris.

"You know, as much as I would hate to suggest this, perhaps lowering that hood wouldn't make us seem so _suspicious_ to all of these folks." He finally announced, tugging at the back of her head with his gaze.

True took a moment to realize that the pilot's words were addressed to her, and for good reason. He hadn't attempted to say anything to her since she had woken up that first day, shocked and confused to see a concerned stranger staring down upon her exhausted body. "What's so wrong with my hood being up?"

"Well, considering the planet is dark…" Carth said slowly, managing to gesture towards the sky with his hand.

"This planet is _not_ dark. There are lights everywhere, if you hadn't noticed." True butt in, clenching the front of her robe protectively.

"Alright then. Well, your black cloak is just screaming 'I want to cause trouble'."

"Well, your yellow jacket is … just screaming."

Carth twisted his expression quickly from 'kindly conversation' to 'defensive insulting'. "Would you just lower the hood? I'm not sure how many wars you have _really_ seen, but Sith Jedi wear black robes rather similar to those."

True turned feverishly around, swallowing down the rising annoyance. _Oh this is just rich. _"Sith Jedi? I've seen them. And I know that none of them would travel alongside a sun-colored-jacket companion. You're bright enough for the both of us, Pilot."

"Please just drop the hood, Scoundrel." He snapped sternly, courting his feet and stepping past her.

Eyes fixated upon his face, True watched Carth until he was out of sight from the blinding sides of the black hood. Things were falling weaker and desperate, and both of the Endar Spire escapees were losing all patience with the situation. In both of their minds they had pictured already being off this planet. But that had yet to happen. A week had passed, and the duo had not only failed to find Bastila, but they made no progress on plans for escaping this rock. _It seems some things are going to have to change for action to take course..._

Slowly raising her hands to the sides of her hood, True pushed the cloth from her face and squinted as the luminance rushed for her eyes. "I feel like a drink."

Carth paused somewhat in front of her, turned, and nodded with no retaliation. _We have got to change our course in action._

--

True slipped easily through the crowd and spotted two seats at the bar next to a well-dressed man, who eyed her with a hint of disgust as she placed herself narrowly next to him. He seemed to be accompanied with two of his buddies, who both leaned forward in their chair to whisper and murmur amongst themselves.

Carth placed himself next to her a moment later, having a bit more trouble weaving through the crowd, and tapped the bar-top for some service. The Cantina on this planet was hugely crowded, hot, and loud - playing host to many drunken ruffians that busied themselves around the twi'lek dancers and the bar. Then, in a more private room, there were many folks gathered around a view screen showing a local dueling ring.

"Here's two Tarisian ale's for ya… SIR, GET OFF THE TABLE!" The bartender stammered, practically tossing the glasses to Carth and True before slipping off to push a man off of the bar.

"Crazy in here." True said softly, eyeing the drink set before her, and tapping a long finger nail against the glass to watch bubbles dance up from the bottom.

"Yeah. This Cantina is occupying mostly off-duty Military Sith. I came in her a few days ago when we split up. Wasn't so crowded then." Carth replied, staring around at the groups of people.

"I see. Well, I wanted to talk to you… but now I'm not so sure what exactly I wanted to talk about…" _Liar. _She stammered, sipping lightly at the glittering ale. As soon as the toxic liquid rushed into her mouth, her gray eyes slammed shut, and her face squinted awkwardly.

Carth chuckled. _Amateur little Scoundrel. _"Don't tell me you have never had Tarisian ale before?"

"I have never had Tarisian ale before." She playfully mocked.

Carth laughed again. "I find that hard to believe. Everyone has had this stuff – especially on Taris. This planet is practically known for it."

"It's strong…" True replied, leveling the drink to her eyes and staring upon it, as if to see it dosed with something horribly vile to make such a taste. "So. Tell me about yourself."

"Me?" Carth mused, turning slightly towards her. When her stern look refused to change, he clamped on the moment of silence to find the most fitting way to fasten his life into one short explanation. _I guess I owe her some part of my story. _"I have been a star pilot in the Republic for years. I fought in many wars, including the Mandalorian before this." _Well that was a whole lot easier then I thought._

Blinking back the rising look of utter disappointment, True leaned back in her seat. "That's it?"

Carth sighed. "Well, my home world was one of the first to fall to Malak's fleet. The Sith bombed it into submission and there wasn't a damn thing our Republic soldiers could do to stop them."

_Ah, typical story; an angry soldier who has lost everything. _"You're talking like it's your fault. Like you failed somehow."

There was short silence between them. "It shouldn't be my fault." Carth finally continued, "I did everything I could… I followed my orders and did my duty. That shouldn't mean I failed them. I didn't!"

"Them? Do you mean the people of your home world?"

"Ye- no… no. That's not what I mean. I mean… I'm sorry. I'm not making much sense, am I?" He mumbled, leaning forward with his elbows placed on the counter and his thumbs gorging into his eyes. He exhaled slowly. _Damn it, Onasi._

"Not entirely, no."

Carth winced and slowly raised his head, turning to look at her with a subtle expression plastered to his face. "You probably mean well with your questions, I'm just not accustomed to talking about my past very much. At all, actually."

True nodded, understanding. As much as she wanted to badger and interrogate the man for all he was worth, she knew it was somewhat her own fault for his lack of trust in her. They had only just started talking, after all. _Well, it's a start._ She thought impatiently, tucking some stray auburn hair behind the nape of her ear, and taking another sip of the ale that slowly seemed to naturalize itself to her liking.

"I want to know some things about you, now."

Dropping the drink to the table, the corners of the woman's mouth twitched up to a small smile. "That's for me to know, and you to never find out."

Carth raised his eyebrows astonished. _Women! I swear, they expect us to be mind readers…_ "Right. I assumed you would have told me, anyway, if you had wanted to."

Chuckling softly, she drooped her head to her chest and smiled. "My name is True Baill."

"Oh, so nice to meet you!" Carth mumbled, the farthest thing possible from excited or pleased. "But really. Come now, I told you." _What are you, Onasi, five? 'I told you, now you gotta tell me'... you're an idiot._

_Good point. _"Well, as far back as I can allow myself to remember I have been a scoundrel. I have made it all over the galaxy, and fought my few battles." She said, voice traveling off very far as she rubbed the side of the glass with her thumb. "That's really about it."

_Almost as stubborn as I am. Good. _Carth nodded absent-mindedly, taking a swig of his ale.

"Hey there, pretty thing. I haven't seen you around here before, of course I don't get much time off from the military base."

_And this is why I wear a hood._ Turning around, True found herself face to face with a tall man who wore young, unappealing features, and curly dark hair. His clothes looked nothing Sith related, so she found it almost hard to believe he had anything to do with the Sith.

As if to read her gaze he continued "I'm off duty right now, so I'm not in uniform. My name is Yun Genda – junior officer first class with the Sith occupation force."

If anything good came from this random encounter, it was the fact that the war pilot finally turned to face her direction again, eyeing the current situation with modesty. _Wonderful, she has been in here for fifteen minutes and is already getting hit on. Though she is no doubt good-looking…actually, I'm more surprised it took that long… _Carth downed the last of his ale, and swiveled to face the man.

"I'm True Baill, it's nice to meet you." True smiled curtly, extending a hand that could only be revealed when she pulled back the oversized robe sleeve, which practically ate her arm when she didn't have it tucked.

Yun graciously took hold of her hand tenderly and rattled it up and down. "I must say I'm a bit shocked you're talking to me. Everyone on this backwater planet is in such a bad mood towards us Sith anymore. I say you have to make the best of things even in hard times like these."

"Well, everyone has their ups and downs. It's how you deal with them that counts…"

Carth's eyes fell cautiously upon True. She really was a bundle of surprise. Every time her mouth had opened in the past hour, some words tumbled out that he greatly hadn't expected. How had he been living with this girl for a week and not seen how knowledgeable she really was? _Maybe it's because until now she's hidden under her cloak in the corner, or is never around. _

Yun smiled gaily. "You're right! Hey, I like you. Tonight me and some of the junior Sith officers are going to throw a party, and you should drop by. I'll show you where it is on your map…"

--

Carth wasn't particularly sure why True insisted on stopping by the party. Other then the assumption that she perhaps had a thing for the 'junior Sith officer' – which she had whole-heartedly threatened to cut off his ears if he suggested it again – Carth couldn't think of any other reason why she would want to indulge such an atmosphere.

"You don't have to come if you don't want to." True scoffed at him over her shoulder for the umpteenth time. _I'd almost prefer it._

"These Sith," He started, ignoring her comment yet again. "They're like animals. They kill without a purpose, and will stop at nothing. It makes me sick."

Rolling her eyes, True pushed her palm against the button to open the entrance to the North Apartments. _Once you get him started he won't shut up, _she thought to herself, making her encounter swiftly down the rounded hallway while reading the silver numbers outside of each door. Carth was shorty at her heels, calling them out loud behind her as if she didn't already know what each one read. When she finally found apartment 303, and Carth had plainly announced it – "Look, isn't this it?" – she turned swiftly around on her heel.

"What?" Carth asked shocked, trying his hardest not to smile, feeling he was successful in his attempts.

"Are you trying to drive me insane? _Why_ don't you want me to go in here so bad?"

"Because. The last thing I need is you getting into trouble with the Sith. We're trying to stay low-key here, and you're insisting on partying it out with the enemy." _Frustrating, brainless woman. _Carth pointed out, groping her hand as it reached for the opening.

"Look, we're going to have to stick together for things to start working to our advantage here. We've tried splitting up, and it has gotten us nowhere. So… trust me." True slapped his hand away from her grip and opened the door, which shot open with a soft whir, intoxicating their air with the thick stench of Terisian ale. She enjoyed watching Carth's face turn from anger to shock as he realized the inhabitances of the party were all passed out on the floor, snoring peacefully.

"Happening party…" Carth murmured, watching her walk in and step over gaily snoozing bodies.

"I had a feeling they would all be passed out by now. I've seen one too many parties end like this…" She lifted up a brown military bag from the corner and tipped it forward to reveal two Sith uniforms stuffed deep inside. "And now we have our disguise!"

Carth distorted his face to serene astonishment, and couldn't help but smile. "Impressive." _Cute._

--

Rakghouls were deformed mutants living in the Undercity, traveling in groups between four and eight, charging anything that looked or smelled to the resemblance of food. And, rather apparently, Carth looked like food.

"CARTH!"

Frozen in his tracks, Carth stopped and turned towards the shriek of his name - and only just in time. The rakghoul launched through the air, poisonous fangs longing for the rupture of tender skin, and Carth withdrew his blasters as quickly as physically possible. Falling backwards, he managed to shoot the beasts belly as it leapt over him, and then died in a bountiful heap off to the side.

True and Carth had separated a bit to search around, but not far enough to fall out of earshot from each other. And for good reason. _I knew something was wrong when she said my name for the first time. _Lying still against the moist ground, Carth laid his head back for a moment and closed his eyes with a melancholy sigh, relishing in the relief of his hearts still rapid beat. _Thanks…_

"You alright?"

His eyes opened slowly to view the scoundrel leaning over, her reddish-brown hair brushing the sides of his face, staring down upon him with an amused smile. "Yeah. Thanks." He felt his face grow hot as her eyes lingered up and down his body, presumably checking if he had been wounded, though he didn't know why this simple examination caused him such a light-headed spin.

"Don't mention it. It's not like I personally want to watch you turn into a rakghoul."Sighing indignantly True dropped her sword to the floor and plopped to the ground next to him.

It was filthy down here. The ground was moist from being untouched by the sun, and the polluted air made it impossible for anything lovely to live. No plants, no kind animals, and barely any kind humans. The Outcasts in the Undercity were mainly adults who had resided here from childhood, growing to see nothing more then this pit of despair they called home. True found it hard to picture never seeing the beautiful skies, the purple sunsets, the star-streaked nights, or the rising suns.

"Being down here sure makes you appreciate what you've got, doesn't it." Carth chimed, propping himself up on his elbows, most likely dirtying his yellow combat sleeves.

True nodded, recalling earlier that evening when the two had run into a girl named Shaleena. She was so full of life and excitement, and her heart was nothing but gold – though it would get her nowhere in life. Her path seemed to be set, forever living in the Undercity, trying to convince up worlder's that it wasn't so bad down here in the filthy dark city. The dark city, it might be added, that the duo had been endlessly searching through for little over an hour. And Mission Vao, the young twi-lek girl that Gadon had insisted they find in order to complete an ironic task he had set for them, seemed to be no where.

"So. Lets look on the bright side," True finally announced, tugging agaisnt her mind.

"Enlighten me." Carth challenged, raising a dark eyebrow as a mysterious thunderclap echoed overhead.

"While you were almost turned into a meal, I found a rakghoul serum on one of the dead Sith's bodies over there…"

Carth shook his head and sighed. It was raining now, just for a change. It was a particular type of rain that he particularly disliked, particularly when he was sitting on the ground. Eye twitching very annoyed-like towards True, he felt a stem of relief to see her expression almost as given up and horribly upset as him.

"Please you have to help me! No one else will help me! Even the Beks won't help me. But I can't just leave him there – he's my friend! You'll help me, won't you?"

A poor bedraggled figure, shaky voice giving away her almost-teary dilemma, came running towards them from an unknown area. It was a young blue twi-lek, strangely attired, and wetter then a bantha in a washing machine.

Fitting the face to what she presumed to be a name, True pushed her hands into the soft and soaking soil to set herself standing. "Whoa Mission, calm down. What's wrong?"

"H-how'd you know my name?" Mission said slowly, staring at True, forgetting her dim-witted approach and replacing it with awkward suspicion.

"We've been looking for you, actually." Carth answered, also joining the stand, wiping muddy hands against his pants.

Mission stared between the two of them, distress refilling her eyes. "I'm not real sure what you're talking about, but there's not much time. If we don't get to Zaalbar soon they're going to sell him into slavery!"

"Alright, alright. If we help you find Zaalbar you have to help us get inside the Vulkar base."

"Done. Deal. Lets just go!" Mission pleaded, cupping her hands under her chin, resembling that of a beggar.

"Just like that? How do we know this isn't a trap?" Carth said, clipping his fingers to the back of True's robe and forcefully tugging her towards him.

"Have a little trust, would ya?" _And plus, I'd love to get out of this rain._

--

Certainly a number one rule; (most likely taught in young-soldier training – or common sense 101) is to be sure to ask where you're going and what you are about to run into, before gallivanting off after an incomprehensive fourteen-year-old girl. These rules, however, were presently locked away in both True and Carth's minds. Locked away, it might be added, in a room, in a cellar, in an unused lavatory, with a sign on the door that reads "Beware of man-eating Gizka". So, in other words, these common sense rules were not anywhere close to being recovered.

While climbing down the grease-covered ladder, descending into bitter darkness, True felt the twinge of forewarning. _And here I thought it couldn't get worse then the Undercity…_

"Ah, the Under-Undercity." Carth stammered as he stood at the bottom of the ladder, peering around the small creaking room. Cold tremors washed over his wet body, and he pictured himself at that precise moment on a far from harmless world, sitting in a far from harmless bar, recklessly causing trouble.

"Close," their new companion replied, approaching a huge door. "Sewer."

"Convenient. You didn't mention that." Said True, hopping down the last few steps of the ladder, just happening to catch the expression upon Carth's face that portrayed his amusement at her child-ness. This small and simply action was very disconcerting, and yet it disconcerted Carth like hell.

"Slipped my mind. I assumed you knew Gamorrean's were almost all that lived down here." Mission replied, placing her hands on the door and rapping upon it. For some reason it was always the first door that appeared to be the most difficult to open.

"Gamorrean's?" The scoundrel snapped perplexed, while ringing the tips of her dark ahir free of water.

"Oh this is just great," Carth chimed, the least bit amused. "Of course Gadon gives us a guide that will most certainly lead us into danger."

True rolled her eyes coolly, and flicked at some stray and wet auburn hairs from her face. "_If_ I didn't know any better I'd start to think you have a trust issue."

_I do_… he was about to say it, he truly was, but just as the words started to ascend their way up his throat they were frightened down as the door finally thrust upward. And, in good terms, it wasn't the prettiest sight to see on the other side.

Just as the rustic medal doors burst upward there were three large Gamorreans standing at the entrance, tapping giant axes in their hands, and smiling. Or… it looked like they were smiling. Gamorreans are, after all, carbon-based bipedal life forms descended most certainly from a pig. Curiously enough, though they don't know it, Gamorreans are luckily extremely dumb and gullible.

Blaster shots whirring past her face from Carth, True tugged two vibroswords from her belt and thrust them forward in a replicated motion. Skimming over and around tough-placed armor, with Mission slaughtering wildly at her side, the three Gamorreans fell to rest rather quickly and without too much of a ruckus. When the heavy breathing finally slowed, True shoved the swords back into their spots at her waist and twisted around to glare at Carth. "You almost shot me three times!"

Bewildered, Carth took a step back as if her magnificent-gray eyes were shoving him into a wall. Never in his experience of fighting battles had a fellow solder turned and bitterly came at him about his accuracy. "Excuse me?" _I'm one of the best damn shots in the galaxy!_

True's mouth opened and closed a couple of times while her mind was for a moment filled with inexplicable but terribly attractive visions of Carth's yellow jacket being consumed in fire while he himself ran around screaming from the blazing ruin with at least three hefty vibroswords protruding from his back.

"Mr. Onasi," She said.

"Hello." He replied sarcastically. _Well, here we go, back to where we started._ _Just when I thought she may be bearable... _

"Some factual information for you. Have you any idea how much damage it would do to my vibrosword to accidentally cram into your skull?"

"How much?" Said Carth.

"None at all," True replied with a wicked grin, and stormed nervously after mission, wondering why her brain was filled with such gory images.

Almost instantaneously as she rounded the corner to catch up to Mission, six more Gamorreans, with no intentions to be merciful no matter how old she was, mounted on the blue twi'lek. "Where is Zaalbar!" Her young vocals screamed, swinging her vibroblade around with her right hand, and shooting blindly with the left.

Behind Carth there was a small group of under-ground rakghouls wandering around the area, but as soon as they witnessed the slaughter of the over-sized pig men, the four-legged beasts hadn't the faintest idea what to make of the three trespassers, or whether they were meant to make anything of them, or eat them, or what. So they did what they did to everything else that seemed intimidating, which was to run away from them and try to hide under each other, which never worked. So, in short, they weren't much of a threat.

When the battle ended, similarly to the results of the first, Mission's attention was drawn to a non-computer based door in the circular room, and she immediately worked vigorously to open it.

"You're a sight for sore eyes, Mission." Called out the soft growl of a huge Wookie.

Missions eyes grew wide and glittery to the all-too-familiar sounds. "Big-Z! I'm so glad to see you. You didn't think I'd forget you, did you? Mission and Zaalbar, together forever!" And with that she smiled widely, and jumped onto the furry creature, whom returned the feelings with a warm hug.

After a moment of bliss, they separated, and Zaalbar's yellow eyes blazed cautiously from True to Carth. "Who's with you…?"

"I'm True Baill, and this…" True's gaze flashed light-speed fast to the pilot and then back. "Is Carth Onasi. We helped Mission save you, in return for her to show us the way into the Vulkar Base."

The way she said Carth's name, with such a distinct and thick hatred, you could almost lick the tension in the air. The pilot even dared to wince slightly as his name – the same name so many people had spoken – slipped over her tongue like a bad after-taste.

"You know the language of my people? That's rare in your species… I'm impressed." Zaalbar replied, seeming to lighten incredibly.

Carth stood off to the side, watching the strange exchange of words in minor astonishment. Still trying to brush off the recent plague from the scoundrel, he could appreciate the way she un-intentionally impressed him… no matter how much of a pain she was proving to be.

--

When the steel doors opened to the Lower City levels, the four companions stepped out, tired and relieved from the mass amount of battles with the Vulkars. It wouldn't be luck or chance that Carth and True had come across Mission and Zaalbar, but whatever force had brought them together was certainly welcomed. The four had made a good team, taking some battles better then others, but always coming out on top. And so finally, muscles and bodies soar and tender, they emerged from the Undercity with the swoop accelerator that Gadon had needed in order to win the race.

Still somehow finding the strength to be all a flutter, Mission pulled Zaalbar ahead promising to meet back up with True later, and the two disappeared in the direction of the Hidden Bek's base. _It will definitely be a change in attitude having those two along now._ True smiled, thinking back on the life debt she now had with the Wookie, therefore adding the teenage twi'lek to the project. _Attitude… attitude…_ clutching the accelerator in her hands, True stood alone in the middle of the hall, tired but with fiercely burning eyes.

Carth walked slowly passed her, pausing to examine the blaster in his right hand. _Do I honestly seem to be that bad of a shot…_

"I'm sorry for what I said."

There it was. That voice. The voice he had been inwardly praying to hear address him for the past many hours, while fighting side by side with the scoundrel. The soft voice that was so strictly accusing him earlier. The voice that, at the time, had a hint of real fear… fear of his shot. Turning casually, hoping that his relieved expression didn't tumble through his face, Carth looked upon the lovely features the voice belonged.

"It's fine. Just remember I have fought in many battles, and have yet to hit anyone on my side of the fight." _Yes, boast about yourself,_ b_ungling idiot. _Carth inwardly kicked himself for being so… himself.

True cocked her head slightly, and nodded. "Yes. I suppose you have. But in all fairness I could care less about my own life… I was worried about the _fourteen-year-old_ girl. She's inexperienced in wars, if you might not have immediately assumed that of her age. Sure, she can fight, but…"

"No, you were right to snap at me… I should be more careful. I'm just so used to being in the front lines."

True bit her lip, and raised both eyebrows. _Not what I expected…_ "Well, I shouldn't have been so cross. There's a perfectly reasonable way to handle any situation, and that wasn't it. I should have trusted yo-"

"Don't trust me. If you're smart, you won't trust anyone. Not even yourself." Said Carth firmly.

Exhaling deeply, True stepped towards him with a slow shake in her head. "Who did trust sleep with to make you so bitter! First Mission, then Gadon, and now you're telling me to not trust you or… myself?"

"What – uhg." Carth sighed angrily. "I knew you wouldn't understand. Let me try to explain myself to you. You're probably one of the most skilled women I've ever met. You've saved my butt more then once, and I'm lucky you're here to help me, no question. But, that doesn't mean I'm going to stop watching you or being wary. I'm not built that way. Period."

"Why are you so hostile! What did I do to deserve this?" True asked, the taint of being honestly offended hanging on her words.

"You haven't done anything yet." He paused, perhaps for dramatic effect, or maybe to gather his memories before they ran away with him, leading bad times over the horizon. "I've been betrayed before. It's not happening again. I won't let it."

"Do you want some kind of guarantee I won't betray you? Is that what you're looking for here? A certificate… do you want me to sign your hand?" She acknowledged.

Again, there was a pause before the answer, as if the pulverized mind of Carth had to collect its thoughts from the millions and millions of miles over which it seemed to be scattered. "Don't take it personally, ok? I don't know that you'll betray me. But there are no guarantee's."

"Don't tell me what I can and cannot take personally you hairless Wookie!" As soon as the words tumbled out of her mouth, somewhat like an avalanche, she choked down a laugh.

"Hairless Wookie? Alright, sister, just take it easy. Your head may explode."

"Stop telling me to calm down, you ignorant bantha." The smile crept up her cheeks.

"Is that your idea of an insult? Come on, beautiful, take your best shot." Carth challenged, basking in the humor she held behind her eyes.

There was a brief moment as the compliment settled in her stomach. The second the charmed space-pilot said 'beautiful' her stomach flopped, and her mouth gaped slightly open. She'd almost lost her wit, which was no doubt his intention… right? _Must be nausea._

"Gamorrean pig-man."

"Oh, ouch, I think you hurt my man feelings with that one." He chuckled.

"Well you had it coming." Said True.

"I guess I did. Feel better now?"

"Maybe a little."

"Well good, then let's talk about this reasonably." Carth said, inhaling sharply before continuing. "Look this isn't personal. If you're smart you won't trust anyone, either… not me, not Bastila, and especially not yourself."

"Ah – so you don't trust yourself!" True replied, pointing a finger in his face like a child who had just found out his deepest and most dark secret. However, the second she saw the amused warmth depart from his eyes, she regretted her actions.

"I don't need to be analyzed, thanks." He began slowly, with a twisted anger. "Why does it matter to you anyway why I don't trust you or anyone for that matter? Why is it so important to – no, you know what, I don't want to talk about this anymore. Lets go."

Utterly astonished at the lack of maturity in the situation – or better yet lack of 'reason' as he had proposed to do – True tightened her jaw and stalked forward in the direction Mission and Zaalbar had cantered off to.

--

True slammed the accelerator on top of Gadon's desk harder then she had intentionally meant to, which of course fired Zeardra to self combust, causing a Hidden Bek to forcibly hold her back from launching at the scoundrel.

"Ah, you made it back in time for that accelerator to be placed in the bike. And I see you have added Mission and her Wookie friend to your little… party." Gadon said, rounding his desk and staring keenly upon True – which was strangely remarkable, since he was as blind as a bat.

"I lived up to my end of the deal, Gadon." True replied, unnerved and with little feeling. She was still a little heated and confused from her conversation with Carth.

"I'm a man of my word. You will still get to ride in the swoop race tomorrow under the Hidden Bek banner, and you're even going to ride the bike with the swoop accelerator in it. You'll surely win with that." The leader of the Hidden Beks replied, wavering slightly with the possibility on his mind.

Carth thought his ears had gone to fodder. All this time he had thought they were just getting the accelerator for Gadon, so that he would in turn help them get Bastila – not have True ride in the race for him. Instinctively scooting closer to the scoundrel, Carth opened his mouth to say something, but she sensed it and elbowed him straight in the ribs.

"Gadon you can't be serious! We need one of our best riders on that bike! You can't just throw a rookie into that race with a swoop bike accelerator!" Zeardra snapped, swatting free from the Bek who held her back, and taking a step towards Gadon much like Carth had done.

"What's the catch?" Said True, feeling the bubbly sensation of betrayal in the pit of her stomach. _I must be talking to Carth too much._

"I have to be honest with you," Said Gadon, his blind eyes casting downward, causing stress to his dark skin. "The accelerator isn't stable, there's a good chance it could explode during the race. If you can finish the race before that happens, then you will win for the Beks. If not, then one of my other riders may come in for me."

Zeardra's eyes filled with overwhelming glee, most certainly caused by the floating image of the swoop accelerator blowing True up into a million tiny and fiery pieces. Carth had a similar image, and felt it rather necessary to gush. "Are you crazy! You're going to risk her life for the benefit of yourself?"

"I'll need some rest tonight if I'm going to pull this off." True spoke over him, noticeably causing Carth a great deal of inner stress.

There was a long silence between them, in which Carth's mouth had managed to do a tremendous amount of push up's while he stared angrily at the Bek leader, deciphering whether it was best to stay silent or hoard him for all he was worth.

"You and your friends may stay here for the night. I've already made arrangements for your rooms." Gadon smiled, gesturing a twi'lek Bek forward to show them where they would be staying.

The two rooms Gadon provided were very hospitable. In Mission and True's room there were two nice big beds, covered with clean white sheets that felt soft to the touch. It was a small enclosure, warm and roomy, with silver walls and floor that echoed off of each other much like the cock-pit of a warship, or the lounging area of the fallen Endar Spire. These rooms were conveniently spaced apart, perhaps for the benefit of different genders, but it gave them all a sense of caution. Being so scattered, even if it was for a harmless reason, just felt too dangerous.

Running a finger absent-mindedly across the slick walls, True wandered down the empty hall to her room in the wee hours of the night. She had just finished taking a rather warm shower, wrapped up merely in her long black cloak with the sleeves scrunched up to her shoulders so that she could have better access to her hands. The material felt itchy and raw on her bare skin, but also thin and prepared for battle around any corner. A smile toyed with her thin lips. _At any moment. Any person, anywhere, anytime…_

Cold fingers wrapped around her freshly exposed elbow, and True whirled around with a steady hand raised deadly in the air, only to be half-disappointed to see soft brown eyes staring innocently through her.

"Whoa, whoa. Take it easy, gorgeous."

Heat rose up from the pit of True's stomach, flourishing the narrow structure of her cheeks. The ridiculous image of herself through Carth's eyes burned to the front of her vision. She imagined him staring at her drenched hair, dripping down around her shoulders in wavy groups, her pale skin covered in goose bumps from the air, and the terribly shocked expression she probably had. The awkward situation weaved the reality of how extremely light and revealing her robe was in and around her mind … "We didn't finish our earlier conversation very well." She said at last in rather a strained drawl.

"That's what I was meaning to talk to you about." Carth said, slipping his hand off of her arm, and brushing his fingers against the soft and warm skin on her forearm.

The tips of his fingers sent an icy shutter up her spine, and True closed her arms together and moved up and down them rapidly, trying to ward off the strange feeling of nausea rising once again.

"Look, I have trust issues, and my reasons are my own – however I will try my very best to trust you. For now. But even after what you pulled today with the whole swoop accelerator – I mean you could have told me you were going to race…" His voice trailed as he stared at her with astonishment.

True allowed the right corner of her mouth to rise in a smirk. _Men have the strangest ways of showing their feelings. _"Get to the point, space pilot."

"What happened to Hairless Wookie?"

True shrugged lightly. "You upgraded."

"Well, I'm glad." He smiled. "True, you don't have to do this. We can find another way – a less dangerous way – to get to Bastila. The fact that she is alive is more then great news, and…"

"You and I both know that whoever wins that race tomorrow will own her, run half way across the galaxy with her, and we will lose her forever." True said softly, hoping to send a hint of realization past that thick over-warred head.

Carth's eyes fell into shadow, and he drooped his shoulders. _She's right, and I hate it._ "I just don't know what we will do if something happens to you." Mind wandering, he felt the pain of four years start to creep back into his chest, fully engulfing this ever-darkening shadow on his heart and emotions.

True stood awkwardly for a moment, her bare feet starting to feel sticky and dirty on the cold floor. She couldn't decide what was going on in the pilot's mind and as to why he was caring so much about her, in such a strange manner. Instinctively, like a mother would do, she cupped her hand under his chin and softly raised his face to look her in the eyes. Her finger then slowly trailed up his jaw line and traced the outline of his cheek.

There was a tingling sensation underneath her warm touch on his skin. Carth didn't dare to move, didn't dare to breathe. He wanted to stop the un-enlightening thoughts from freeing access to his mind and vision, and he wanted nothing more then to enjoy her effort at comforting him… but he couldn't. The terrible memories he had ward off for four years were starting to fade back in, and it was because of her, from some uncanny reason. _Pull yourself together, Onasi…_

"I can do this, Carth."

--

"I can't do this!"

True grabbed at her face and dug her short nails as far into her scalp as she could, staring at all of the buttons and knobs on the swoop bike. She had never driven or ridden upon anything she had to control herself, and she had planned to keep it that way up until now. The bike that levitated before her hummed slightly, radiating heat, power, and danger underneath its floating orb.

"Just remember," The alien Bek continued on, pointing one more time at the huge incredibly-hard-to-miss button on the bike. "If you forget everything else – y'know, except for the gas, brakes, and shifting – _do not_ forget about this button."

"Why? What does that do again?" She asked quickly, reaching out to touch the wheel of the bike, and then snapping her hand back quickly as she noticed the incessant shaking of her limbs.

"Well, if the bike starts to scream, and you don't push that button, something terrible will happen."

"Like?"

"Like the bike will explode."

"Oh. Right."

"Could be worse."

True raised an eyebrow and stared up at the tall bug-eyed creature. "Worse?"

"Of course," it continued, grabbing her arm and practically throwing her into the seat of the racer. "You could crash into a wall, tearing limbs off and bleeding an insufferable pain in the middle of the track while you cling helplessly to the thin line between life and death… or, you could simply blow up and end it instantly."

True winced at the image played-back in her mind of a horrible crash scene including her and the swoop accelerator. "Thanks…" she added, hoping the sarcastic tone was notably thrown in.

"Good luck, racer."

The rest of the day was somewhat of a blur, and certainly a change in events. The first race was difficult, and there were definite raw moments when True felt she was most definitely going to blow up – but something strange yet small and powerful kept her going. It lingered in the back of her mind, the pit of her stomach, the keen in her eyes… it drove her forward and made her feel like she was so much more then what was plainly visible on the outside.

When the countdown began – 5,4,3,2,1 – for the final time that day, she pushed the gas in as hard as she could, and clutched at the steering with the whites of her knuckles. A bead of sweat fell slowly down her temple, stinging the corner of her eye, but she did not blink. She wavered in and out of obstacles, left, right, left, right, now right again! Turning the last corner True held her breath as a pile of rocks lay twenty feet before her, and narrowly avoided careening into it. She managed to only nick a side of the bike, and then straightened again while smoke erupted out of the right panel.

Finally the bike flew across the finish line, sending a wave of relief over her body. She shook with fear and acceptance as the huge yellow numbers read;

**00:22:43**

True walked slowly back in from the track. Crowds cheered with awe and glee, patting her on the back and giving her words of praise that seemed so far and distant she couldn't even hear it. As her feet moved without command, her eyes fell on the cage she had failed to notice on her way out, probably due to the focusing fear. Inside of the cage, drugged up and un-responsive somewhat like a wild animal, was Bastila Shan; the woman from her many dreams that stood in the middle of a horrific scene fighting off a Sith. She was the Jedi once famous for her skills with battle meditation, who now stood in the entrance of a swoop race track, residing as a prize to be sold and wrought.

"In all of my years I've never seen anyone handle a bike like that…" the alien smiled – or presumably smiled – grabbing True by the shoulder and shaking her back to reality. "Of course, you looked horrified while doing it; the riding in particular seemed effortless. You did great."

_Green, blue, yellow, and purple streams of light. Four lightsabers belonging to four Jedi, all facing up to a Sith in black robes, holding a red lightsaber. "You cannot win, Revan!" The vessel shakes. Sparks fly, sounds of failure erupt everywhere. Everyone falls. Screens black out, and blurred vision shows a remaining Jedi crawl over to the injured Sith. She looked up and down, fearful and unsure of what to do with the few moment left before destruction._

Staring out the window of the broken down apartment, Carth tapped his finger against the glass windowpane, the same way he had watched True do so many nights in the prior week. He would give anything to have that image now, and have her sitting in his shoes, safe and angry instead of scared and in danger – and he would prefer to have that kind of reassurance, much opposite his dilemma now of sitting in her famous spot, listening to the radio that came in and out in waves of timeliness.

"And now True Baill comes along the last corner, seems to lose a bit of control on that turn, oh no she's hurdling towards the rocks and fssssssssZZZttt…"

Carth launched himself out of the windowsill, fumbling along the slick floor, and twisted the radio's knob feverishly. "No… no… no, damnit!" He threw his fists furiously on top of the radio and put his ear closer to the tiny speaker, pleading for the annoying man's voice to come back again. When nothing happened he proceeded to pound on the medal box, kick the floor, and swore and swore and swore and swore and swore.

Finally the voice emerged again. "And that's the end of that race with a win from…"

"Big-Z! You are cheating!" Mission laughed, unnecessarily loudly, throwing a pazaak card at Zaalbar's fuzzy face.

"Would you two shut up!" Carth said angrily, straining his neck to stare at the twi'lek girl who perched on the foot of his bed, playing with the Wookie. Zaalbar growled angrily, simultaneously to the fourteen year olds cautious grunt.

The pilot narrowed his eyes. "Please?"

The entry door to the room slid open quickly, and with that utterly sensational reassurance of an entrance True's familiar presence settled in.

"True! You did it… but the radio…"

"Carth Onasi."

The accent would catch him off guard anywhere, but would never fail to fill him with the respect and relief it well deserved. "Bastila! Finally, things are looking up!" Carth got up off of the ground, pushing the radio to the side, and squared his shoulders, relieving a long-held in sigh. For the first time in a week he felt an honest weight lift from his back.

The lacking-there-of of this kind of enthusiasm from the pilot when True walked in rolled her into a small fit of jealously, for reasons to be unknown to her. Non-the less she swatted the momentary feeling aside.

"And it's to my knowledge that none of you have a plan to get off of this planet yet. Am I correct?" Bastila said strictly, staring down her nose at Mission and Zaalbar, possibly holding in a look of disgust. "What exactly have you been doing this whole time? Picking up orphans?"

True clenched a fist tightly, then ran her free hand over Missions head reassuringly and stepped in front of her. "I'm getting a little sick of your attitude, Bastila." She applied firmly, recollecting on just a bit earlier when Bastila had been released from the cage, helped True fight off the mounting enemies of her former captive Bejik, and then preceded to insist that 'she got herself out on her own'. _If I didn't like her before, I definitely despise her now._

"My attitude?" Bastila shot back, looking utterly shocked. "You're the one who's in need of an attitude adjustment. I am in charge of this mission, remember?"

"I know you're new at this, Bastila," _but don't talk to her like that!_ "But this is not how a leader treats her troops, just because things don't go as planned. Don't let your ego get in the way of the real matters at hand." Carth butted in, _almost_ surprised that the young woman was already jumping to such actions. _Almost._

"That hardly strikes me as a way to speak to your commander, Carth. I am a member of the Jedi order and this is my mission. Don't forget that!" Bastila eased on, jabbing two respective fingers in Carth's direction. "My battle meditation has helped the Republic many times, and it will certainly help here."

"It may have helped in battles, but that doesn't make you a good leader! A good leader would take the advice and listen to those around them that have seen more battles then … well more then you have or ever will!" Carth shot back.

The argument proceeded on for about two minutes, circling mainly around pointed fingers and "my ship's bigger then your's". Finally, after the featureless organics fought on and on while True gnawed the inside of her mouth raw, she stepped in-between them and shoved her hands in the air. "Would you two stop!"

Bastila stared meekly upon her and blinked. "Yes," She acknowledged at length, taking a moment to finally settle down. "I apologize Carth. I'm happy to listen to your advice. What do you propose?"

"Well first off we all need to work together if we're going to get off this rock. The answer is out there we just have to find it." Carth said coolly, stepping towards the window and glancing out of it, as if hoping the 'answer' would smack against the window and beg to be allowed in so that it could gleefully exclaim; "Hey gang! The answer to all of your problems is..." which, of course, didn't even remotely consider happening.

"Now what?" Chimed in Mission, finally allowing the immensity of time sink in with its ever-passing a presence.

"Well, we'll start in the cantina and ask around with the locals."

--

Upon entering the Cantina on a whim of Bastila's, True was relapsed with the uneasy feeling she had received when Gadon had told her she was going to be racing an explosive bike. The inhabitance of the drinking area had decreased impressively from their encounter with Yun, and it made things easier to scope.

"I saw you in the swoop race, very impressive. You're just the person I'm looking for."

Turning quickly around, echoed in movement by Bastila and Carth who had decided to tag along, True stared at a mysterious and featureless man in the corner. His outline alone was enough to show how extremely strong he was, and rather intimidating.

"Who are you?"

"My name's Canderous Ordo. I work for Davik Kang and the Exchange." Canderous Ordo had a list of reasons as to why he simply needed to leave this planet and most certainly needed True's help. He was a Mandalorean merc, who seemed to want nothing more then to break the Sith quarantine, and to crush a spawn by the name of Calo Nord – but there was a catch, of course. In order to leave the planet they needed to sneak into the Sith base and recover the launch codes..

As he spoke in a deep husky voice that promised nothing good, True had to hold back an inner chuckle as she pictured Carth's 'trust meter' exploding into mild fits of schizophrenia. And, low and behold, just as the thought lingered across her mind he spoke.

"Careful. Mercs like this haven't a lick of conscious… they'll betray you in a heartbeat. This could be a trap."

"Hey, I aint talkin' to you. I'm talkin' to your friend here, aren't I?" Canderous said dangerously as Carth's voice hushed over.

The pilot's expression grew very thin and his hand groped warningly to his blaster rifle, which caused the Mandalorean to laugh rather loudly. Bastila gazed back and forth between the two, and bit her bottom lip, shifting her weight nervously.

"I watched you in the swoop race and thought that anyone crazy enough to ride like that is probably crazy enough to break into the Sith military base. I need the launch codes from the Sith base in order to leave this planet. Without them… well, let's just say any ship leaving Taris would be blown into submission." An ambitious look crept across his square face, and he looked as cold as a crypt.

"What's in it for us?" True challenged, watching his face color change into various shades of white.

"Davik's flagship, the Ebon Hawk. We'll use it to get off of this planet."

Bastila took a cautious step closer to True and turned her face away from Canderous' sight. Stress and nervous tension slipped from her gaze as she spoke. "I don't sense any deception from him, which is surprising. This may be exactly what we need."

After a fairly shaky start to the day, Carth's mind was beginning to reassemble itself from shell-shocked fragments the previous hours had left him with – and this was making nothing easier. Upon watching their safe little party turn into a rampaging breaking-and-entering family, he slipped angrily off to the bar and flung himself gracelessly into a chair. With all of his will power Carth wanted to trust True, but it was rather difficult to trust someone who in turn trusted people with a lack-there-of for being trustworthy.

As Canderous said a short and bittersweet farewell, True and Bastila bounded over towards Carth and sat beside him. After ordering a small round of drinks to calm their apprehensive nerves – they were, after all, going to commit complete and total suicide by breaking into the Sith base – a warm tingle settled to the bottom of their stomachs.

Carth drank the liquid of Terisian ale and found it reviving. He glanced up to his female companions and watched a few hundred miles of barren grayness slide over their expressions. It suddenly occurred to him to ask a questioned that had been bothering him.

"Is this safe?" He said.

Chewing on the idea of smacking Carth across the face, True cocked her head to the side and stared the space pilot up and down. "There's absolutely nothing to be worried about."

"Then why are we so tense?"

"We're just interested!" True snapped, grabbing the top of her glass and spinning it around wildly so that the golden syrup inside sloshed about, much like the oceans of Manaan.

Silence followed. Silence seemed to follow True wherever she went and whomever she was with, in fact. Silence came up at the wrong time, in the wrong place, at the most disappointing of situations. All True cared to know about silence is that she absolutely hated it. Silence, on the other hand, loved True and wanted nothing more then to cherish her, and flower her with the gift of quiet.

"Bastila I was wondering something," Said Carth suddenly, leaning forward over the bar and staring upon the Jedi yonder True. "How did those Vulkars manage to capture a famous Jedi like you? Were you knocked out when the escape pod crashed?"

There was an awkward twist in Bastila's narrow face, and she scrunched her shoulders slightly. "N-no. I was conscious. But my force powers were exhausted from using my Battle Meditation on the Endar Spire. Without my help, though, you would have never gotten off of that ship alive!"

Carth nodded. "Fair enough. But I've seen you Jedi in action. There's no way those thugs would have stood a chance against your lightsaber…"

Wincing, as if she had anticipated these words, Bastila stared hard at her glass of ale. Her eyes were blank for a moment, seeming to consider rolling back into her skull to search for a plausible excuse against his assumption. "My lightsaber was…" The Jedi's voice caught deep within her throat. "Misplaced. I couldn't find it after the crash. I looked _everywhere_ in that pod. The vulkars came and overwhelmed me even as I was searching for my weapon –"

"Wait wait wait." Carth flung his hand into the air with a 'halt' gesture. "You lost your lightsaber? Isn't that a violation of some kind of Jedi code or something?"

"Of all the Jedi in the galaxy, why do we get one who's absent minded?" True and Carth shared a moment of laughter, whereas in the midst of her speech the silence and tension finally seemed to depart.

"This is no laughing matter! At least I got it back in the end…" Bastila said, feeling a bit ashamed and hurt from their amusement of her silly fumble.

_Well, you get what you give, sister. _"Don't get mad. I'm sorry. It's just funny to think of a legendary Jedi losing her lightsaber." Carth said coolly, leaning back in his chair and breaking their eye contact. "Take my advice," He continued, talking more or less to the back of the bartender in front of him then directly to Bastila. "This is one detail you might want to keep out of the history texts."

"I hardly consider myself a legend, Carth –" with this, True held back from mimicking her with disgust at the obvious flattery Bastila overtook " – though I will consider your advice when I relate these events to the Jedi Council. There's no need for them to know every dirty detail, after all."

After finishing down their drinks, and talking mildly about things that kept their weary minds off of the dreaded task ahead, the three decided to head back to the hideout and update Mission and Zaalbar.

--

Deep within the Sith base, approximately two winding halls and three overly-extended rooms down, a party of five was breathing heavily outside of an elevator access room. After thoughtfully disposing of all living Sith inside of the base, up to this point, everything had gone rather swiftly and smoothly. There was only one out of about five battles that even stood out as a mild challenge to them, and that was upon entering a wee-small room horded with Sith patrol. Inside of this room, however, was a Sith Captain who seemed to have wonderful fun with throwing hand grenades in close quarters.

Finally, regaining strength and wits, Mission was rye to walk hurriedly over to the huge door and push a few buttons at random. Then, as soon as it opened, two massively real blaster shots whirled through the door. The suddenness of it was shocking.

Rolling to the right side of the door, Mission regrouped with Zaalbar and grabbed onto his arm like a frightened child who had just gotten the wits scared out of her. Across the way, on the opposite side of the opening – rather hidden from view of whatever laid inside – Carth, Bastila, and True were backed against a wall, trying to comprehend what possibly was making such a ruckus within. After the blasts had subsided for a good long moment, True ducked her head into the opening and glanced around.

Inside the door, just a couple feet from where they resided, a huge assault droid was clicking its massive computer-based head up and down, searching for organic life forms to shoot. At the sight of the bounding spy, the droid released a very unpleasant warp of fire from a hidden flame-thrower, and scorched the side of the wall.

"Hey, this is terrific!" True said, pulling herself back quickly.

Bastila eyed her cautiously with narrowed astonishment. "Terrific," she echoed.

"Well, don't you see what this means?" True asked gently.

"Yes. We're going to die!" Mission shouted from across the hall, pointing the tip of her gun in the direction of the open door for emphasis.

"Yes, but apart from that." The scoundrel continued on, searching each and every one of their expressions.

"_Apart_ from that?" Carth gulped, twitching his body closer to Bastila's as a jittering blast careened close to the side of his arm.

"It means we must be close to something. Like, oh I dunno, the launch codes..."

Second by second the images of flames and shiny red blasts grew larger.

"As a matter of interest," Bastila finally said, after growing wary of watching the droid shoot continual blanks, "what are we going to do?"

"Just keep cool," said True.

"Is that all?" Shouted Carth.

"No, we're also going to take… er… evasive action!" Said True with a sudden access of panic.

Not really thinking and only reacting, True threw her body off of the wall and turned to face the droid, which seemed to grow extremely excited by her appearance. Shooting blaster shots at her torso, she easily batted them away while slowly ascending closer to the machine. Following suit behind her, the four others hauled out from behind the wall and took to shooting and slicing and jumping over flames until finally, after a slow battle against shields and trickery, a short buzz followed and the droid was forever silenced.

"Well that…" Bastila stammered on, as the second of two turret guns hidden away in the corners fell to her lightsaber, "was surprisingly easier then I had foreseen."

Carth, Bastila, and True volunteered to wander slowly over the blighted room and into the elevator, which was shaded dullish gray, and there was nothing promising or pleasant about it. As they filed inside, quickly and without words, True gave Mission a lasting wink and smile before the elevator doors flew shut.

The ride upward was extremely fast, which was equally as disturbing as the encounter with the droid. Something dark and evil lurched overhead, and there was a thick force-driven _something_ very close by. How True could sense something force-linked, she didn't know, nor did she care to know at that particular moment. As soon as their wander down a short hall came to an abrupt stop, they encountered a black-robed individual standing central in the vast room. _Well, found ya._

"Who dares to break my meditation? You will pay for interrupting my…" The dark Sith fell silent, staring upon True. The silence was only disturbed by the slight spasms of his throat.

"Well," True started, after being convinced he was not going to continue on, "we are here for the launch codes."

"I sense the Force is strong with you. Very strong." The Sith chuckled, seeming to catch nothing, or at least pay no mind to her words. "Who would have thought that a Force Adept could be found on this insignificant planet? No matter, your talent is no match for a disciple of the dark side!"

And with no further confrontation words, the Sith released a double-bladed red lightsaber, and started up a blue shimmering energy shield to boot. His eyes grew dark and steady with a rather sinister "you want 'em, I got 'em" look fixated upon his toned face.

--

High up in the bridge of a ship, a dark Sith stared out into the infinite reaches of space with mild irritation. From where he stood before a wide domed window he could see before and above him the vast panorama of stars through which they were moving – a panorama that had thinned out noticeably during the course of the voyage as they had neared the planet Taris. Turning and looking backward, over the vast half-mile bulk of the ship he could see the far denser mass of stars behind them, which seemed to form almost a solid band. This was the view through the center of the Sith lord Malak's ship. He had peered into the bright distance behind him, into the vast span of computer occupied Sith who tapped at beeping computers, and looked for something. He did this every few minutes or so, but never found what he was looking for. He didn't let it worry him though. Sooner or later it would arrive.

A slight cough alerted the tall and dark figure to the fact that the ship's officer was standing nearby. When Malak's attention turned full frontal to the small commanding man, he started to speak in a deep voice. "You summoned me, lord Malak?"

"The search for Bastila is taking too long. We cannot risk her escaping Taris. Destroy the entire planet." The dark lord's voice was mixed in with deep and dark, as well as robotic – and it dripped with sinister evil.

Taken aback, yet trying his hardest not to show it, the officer cleared his through yet again. "Th-the entire planet, Lord Malak? But… there are billions of people on Taris! We'd be slaughtering countless numbers of innocent people, not to mention our own still down on the surface."

Twisting manically around to face the shorter man, voice still steady and even, the dark lord's eyes narrowed notably on the man's face. His silver jaw motionless, but if possibly, would most likely be twisted into a sadistic smirk. "Your predecessor once questioned my order, Admiral. Surely you are not so foolish as to make the same mistake?"

"Of…" the admiral backed away slowly, freeing his hands innocently before him, "of course not my Lord Malak. I will do as you command. But it will take several hours to position our fleet."

"Then I suggest you begin immediately!" The dark lord said vaguely, spinning back around to gaze angrily down upon the lush green surface or Taris. "You are dismissed, Admiral."

"Yes, Lord Malak."

--

Davik Kang was a man who reeked of superiority, and seemed to think he was immortal with Calo Nord at his side. An assumption, which was quickly foiled, that was very incorrect.

At the time it had seemed a good idea for Carth, Mission, Zaalbar, and Bastila to separate off on their own while True and Canderous tried to figure a way to best the Ebon Hawks security system – but towards the end of the expedition, long after the security codes had been found, a problem had arisen much higher then they had foreseen.

After recovering a way to shut down the security system with a little help from the Ebon Hawks pilot himself, True and Canderous ran to the ship as quickly as possible. The world, however, started to whir and shake in an unnerving tempo as if something or someone was shooting at Taris with million upon millions of blasters. Upon merging through the hangar bay doors, Calo and Davik were also running towards the other side of the ship, presumably attempting to take it – and for good reason. Countless numbers of huge blaster shots sailed down from an unknown region in the sky, destroying everything they made contact with.

"Damn those Sith! They're bombing the whole planet!! I knew they'd turn on us sooner or…" Davik's voice cut far off as he darted to the side of a giant falling red beam, and noticed and mandalorean and True galavanting towards his ship. "Well, well. Look what we have here. Thieves in the hangar."

Calo was quick on on his commander's heels, and smiled wickedly upon Canderous. "I'll take care of them, Davik. I've been looking forward to this for a long time…"

True yanked the vibroswords from her belt long before he could finish the sentence, and threw them down around Calo's shoulders as he fired blaster shots around her torso – making immense effort to send a shot at Canderous any chance her could muster. Every half-second another giant blast from the Sith ship overhead sent a quake across the ground, which rattled the bones in their knees. Only fighting 'till the death for a mere moment or two Davik's demise ended with a single shot from the Sith above. He screamed out long and hard, then fell to the floor in a motionless heap. The three that remained alive stopped their battle, and glanced upon the fallen man in turn.

"If I'm going down, I'm taking you two with me!" Calo then screamed out, backing away from them quickly and pulling a thermal detonator form his pocket – making sure to hold it high where they could see.

True's eyes glanced desperately upon Canderous, who still held a stone-hard expression, but had a mild case of fear within his eyes. Just then, as soon as the threat had been made, it vanished as a pile of rubble crashed down around Calo's body, trapping him under its weight. The dust from the rubble spread across the room like fire, engulfing True and Canderous into a thick cloud.

"Get to the ship so we can get your friends and get off this planet!" Canderous choked, jarring True by the arm and wrenching her towards the boarding dock of the Ebon Hawk.

As the four remaining companions piled hurriedly onto the ship, Bastila ushered True into the Bridge as Canderous and Carth followed hurriedly after. Mission pledged to stay in the med bay, trying to conceal the horrific site of Taris dispersing into a million pieces.

"I've seen these Sith in action before, and we need to get off of this planet now – if not sooner!" Bastila strained, staring at the vast span of buttons before them. This ship was incredibly complicated for being so very small.

Canderous hurried over to the computer module that, more or less, controlled the entire vessel as the Jedi stared down upon it. "We've got to get manual control of this ship."

"Can you fly her?" Bastila asked pleasantly, staring down her nose at the Mandalorean.

"No, can you?"

"No."

"Carth, can you?"

"I'd imagine – but I'll need help."

"Fine. We'll do it together."

"I can't either," Said True, who felt it was time she began to assert herself.

The three turned to look at her, wasting precious time just to make sure their point was made. "We'd guessed that." Canderous said stiffly, leaning forward and around Carth to help steer the ship around.

And, as Taris fell in ruins below them, the new crew of the Ebon Hawk lifted into the outer reaches of space, plotting a direct course for the Jedi enclave on Dantooine. Or, as interpreted in True Baill's mind, _the beginning to a terrible end._

--

**Okayyyy. So there it is. If you liked this and think I should write more then lemme know. If you hated this and think I should give up writing for a less complex hobby like – oh, I dunno – knitting… then lemme know. :)**


	2. A Special Case

**Title: A Knights Tale**

**Rating: PG-13 **

**Chapter Summary: **Dantooine. The Jedi Enclave proves to be much more aggravating then anyone had foreseen – and True takes her first steps at becoming a real Jedi.

**WARNING:** There really isn't one.

**Disclaimer: **These characters and this story plot are not mine – mostly. Humor is.

**Author's Note:** I wrote this in a span of, nyeh, four days. It's sooo soooooo horribly smooshed together, almost more-so then the first chapter. I had anticipated enjoying writing this chapter, but I found Dantooine to be horribly boring as well. It will be interesting to see how I write Kashyyyk – since I find playing it in the game almost as enjoyable as pulling teeth.

**A Special Case**

--

"**Resume the bombardment, Commander. Wipe this pathetic planet from the face of the galaxy."**

The Ebon Hawk flew rapidly beyond the utmost outer reaches of the planet Taris – yet the crashing down of the once beautiful city was still echoing among ears. A lingering weight weighed down upon True Baill's shoulders, mingling with her conscious, and pricking at the angry glares shielded behind her gray eyes. Quietly standing behind Bastila, the horrified scoundrel trembled easily between herself as the small group hurtled faster into the mass of stars.

_Poor Mission._

The young fourteen-year-old blue twi'lek was one of the few things True's mind could currently focus on. Mission Vao was, as far as True had known her, a tough little girl – but this experience was crushing her more then a five-thousand pound shuttle. Taris had been her homeland, and though she had sufficiently been dumped alone on the backwater planet, she knew many people and had many safe memories there. Both now destroyed.

"Plot a course for Dantooine! There's a Jedi Enclave there where we can find refuge!" Bastila's snappy voice shouted to Carth – though he was rather close enough to hear it if she had merrily whispered it.

A rapid beeping merging angrily from the system's computer counsel tugged the scoundrel's thoughts away from Mission. Then the entire ship was jostled by twenty-four oncoming shots that showered passed in a stream of red. True turned to watch them in confusion.

"Incoming fighters!" Carth snapped quickly, merging from his seat in front of the ships controls.

The ship shook, the ship thundered. Outside, the inch thick force shield around it blistered, crackled and spat under the barrage of a dozen shots, and looked as if it wouldn't be around for long. Four minutes is how long Canderous gave it.

"Three minutes and fifty seconds," he said a short while later.

"Forty-five seconds," the Mandalorian added at the appropriate time. He flicked idly at some useless switches, and then gave Carth an unfriendly look. "Doesn't this make you just miss the war, Onasi? Three minutes and forty seconds."

"Will you stop counting!" Snarled Carth.

"Yes," said Canderous, "in three minutes and thirty-five seconds, I'll be forced to."

It is worth repeating at this point that the theories that True had come up with, on her first encounter with Canderous, to account for his peculiar habit of continually stating and restating the very very obvious, as in "It's a nice day," or "You're very tall," or "So this is it, we're going to die." Her theory of this was that if he didn't keep exercising his lips, his mouth probably shriveled up – but then she came up with her second theory that he just simply liked to make things uncannily more dramatic.

Carth Onasi frantically jabbed and cranked at buttons, trying to determine how much time they had before –

The Ebon Hawk rattled furiously, and more beeping and whooping screamed about the front of the ship. Canderous, still standing rather uselessly next to the doorway, managed to catch True's wobbling body as she lost footing and tumbled backwards due to the aftermath of the hit.

"Damnit! I'll see if I can shake them!" Carth continued, slamming his body back into the chair and grabbing hold of the steering.

The ship jerked with an alarming shriek to the left – _hard_. Canderous and True stumbled messily about the hallway, falling lamely amongst each other in a very awkward mess as the ship continued to flip-flop back and forth, and unmistakably upside down at one particular point.

"Carth!" Bastila finally barked, holding lamely onto the sides of her chair in a desperate attempt to stay seated. "We will not lose them like this. True – get into the gun turrets and fight them off until we can punch the coordinates in and jump to hyperspace!"

Carth clenched his jaw tightly as the words merged from Bastila's fierce-drenched lips. He had hoped it wouldn't come to that, especially if it was True who had to do it. _Not that I care if she gets hurt, or anything. I just don't want her screwing things up with her inexperience…right._

Groping Canderous's shoulder so that she could stand, True stuttered in fury and said nothing apposite, or indeed coherent as her mouth fell slightly open in an attempt to argue. There was little time, however, to debate anything as another harmful shot shook the entire vessel. Running quickly through the ship, dodging the T3 unit as it flew past her down the hall, True hopped into the small cockpit where a very intimidating gun-turret sat. The designer of this particular gun had clearly not been instructed to beat about the bush. "Make it evil," he'd been told. "Make it totally clear that this turret has a right end and a wrong end. Make it totally clear to anyone standing at the wrong end that things are going badly for them. If that means sticking all sorts of spikes and prongs and blackened bits all over it then so be it. This is not a gun for hanging about the side of the ship or waving merrily at people, it is a gun for going out and making people miserable with."

The ship gave a particularly sickening lurch. True looked at the gun turret unhappily.

After finally jumping to hyperspace and leaving what little evidence remained of Taris far behind, True immerged slowly from the gun turret, looking mildly infuriated. She made her way ever slowly through the hallways of the Ebon Hawk until she was again in the bridge, staring between Carth and Bastila who were now both standing, looking rather relieved. The computer consoles hummed easily now – though a few stray wires sparked and popped overhead from the minor damage.

Carth moved away from the computer terminal, wiped a sleeve across his forehead and slumped back against a wall. Eyeing the scoundrel warily, he smiled at the sight of the small woman as she came back into the now quieted bridge. A string of distant relief flooded the back of his mind, and he leaned easily against the back of his chair. "You did pretty good, gorgeous." _Oops. _"I, er – habit."

True's expression softened noticeably, and her eyes did a series of teeter-tots as she glanced back and forth between Carth and Bastila, who both seemed just as shocked at the compliment even though one of them had personally said it. Apparently it wasn't as 'habit' as the pilot had stated back on Taris, since Bastila seemed utterly confused by it.

"Where to now?" A very small voice questioned plainly. Mission walked slowly down the tiny corridor towards them, eyes puffy and pink, followed closely by Zaalbar who looked just as miserable as her – though Wookies are indescribably hard on the facial expressions.

The Universe, as has been observed before, is an unsettlingly big place, a fact which for the sake of a quiet life most people tend to ignore. However, if given just one momentary glimpse of the entire unimaginable infinity of creation, somewhere in it a tiny little marker, a microscopic dot on a microscopic dot, would say "You are here." This being clearly stated, the answer to Missions question was on an unreachable length for True to personally answer.

"Dantooine," but of course, Bastila _always_ had an answer. "We should be safe from Malak there… at least for now."

"Safe?" Carth chimed in quickly, pushing away from his resting place at the wall and shrugging his shoulders. "You saw what his fleet did to Taris, there wasn't a building left standing that wasn't above two stories high. They… they turned the planet into one big pile of rubble!"

"Even a Sith would think twice before attacking Dantooine. There is great power there, and many Jedi, including some of the Masters of the Order –"

"Great, that's just where we need to be. Among a bunch of Jedi." Grumbled Canderous, who had surprisingly enough been standing silently in the corner for an extremely long time. He was a Mandalorian, however, who thought ever lowly of Jedi.

"I think Carth has a point. We should keep moving." True said quickly after him, trying to stray as far away from an argument as possible.

"Malak will find us eventually." Bastila retorted very smart-like. "We need to recuperate and think of a plan… besides," she paused as a stream of tiny sparks fell in a rush to the floor. "The ship needs a bit of repairing." With that being stated, Mission shrugged and disappeared back beyond the hallways, veering off into the darkest corners of the ship.

"And the Academy is a place of mental and spiritual healing: something we could all use after what we've been through." Bastila finally continued, watching as the young twi'lek and wookie sulked away.

Sighing deeply, Carth finally agreed and sat back into the chair in front of the controls, starting to plot the final course. He made sure to focus at the task at hand; despite how much his eyes longed to shift over his right shoulder upon True…

Hours later, True sat motionless in the left wing of the Ebon Hawk, opposite the side of the ship where Mission sat pining away at her misery. Blinking back frustrated tears, the scoundrel stared down at her hands with uncertainty. The young twi'lek blamed her for the destruction of Taris. If it wasn't for her being there, the young girl had exclaimed, then none of this would have happened. _Did that have any truth about it at all? _Sighing with frustration, she leaned back against the cool walls of the ship, and closed her eyes as the vessel hummed slowly behind her, lulling her aching body into a slow sleep…

Only to be ruined by the sense of a rather annoying presence. One eye cracking warily open, True stared at Bastila's silhouette in the entrance to the empty room. The scoundrel momentarily juggled the option of pretending to be asleep, or acknowledging the Jedi's presence – but then assumed that with all of her cool Jedi-ness she probably had some kind of Force power that alerted her when people were, in fact, awake or not.

Flopping her head forward, True flicked a few imaginary grains of sand on the smooth glossy floor before full-on looking up at the Jedi. As she gazed on, however, Bastila had swiftly lurched closer and was only a few feet before her, crouching down to the scoundrels level with a sickeningly serious expression stoned to her face. The gesture made True inch slowly to the left and she pulled her once crossed legs into a safe barrier before her chest.

"Is… is something wrong? You seem as if something is troubling you." Bastila then announced, reaching out with the tenderest tone that True had ever heard her take.

"Aside from the fact I have destroyed an entire planet, according to a fourteen-year-old…"

"The destruction of Taris was _not_ your fault." Said Bastila sternly.

"Well _obviously_." True replied faintly. "But to Mission, that is the only answer. And aside from that bothering, I keep getting these… these… these visions that make little to no sense –"

"Visions? Visions of what?" Bastila cut in, anxious to delay whatever else might be bothering the scoundrel.

"Of you. Fighting a dark Jedi. Revan, I guess." True stated aggravated. It wasn't like she particularly enjoyed having dream-like fantasies with Bastila as the lead role.

"This is strange… such things are a sign of Force sensitivity – of which I can sense in you." Said Bastila.

"Are you saying I can use the Force?" True asked anxiously, suddenly perking up to the wonderful image of a simple wave of her hand and Bastila's body slamming headfirst into the opposite wall.

"I… I am not sure. You may have some connection to the Force – it would not be unheard of. Your natural talent may have fed off of my own force abilities." Bastila offered. "It is possible that the Force allowed you to view one of my more intense memories, due to the excitement of the battle's aftermath..."

_Of course, everything has to be about you._ True cringed as the Jedi mumbled on about the Force and how it works in 'strange ways'. She even tried to humor her earlier imaginative action and swung her hand around in an attempt to pick Bastila up and fling her in some obscured direction.

"…Even I with all of my training can not fully understand it yet. Er – what are you doing with your hand?" Bastila finished, catching a glimpse of the scoundrel's fun.

"I – er – nothing. So does this mean I could be a Jedi?"

"Let's not get hasty. I will mention these things to the Jedi Council, however." And with that, the young Jedi stood up and turned swiftly on her heel.

There was something about Bastila that True absolutely didn't trust. She felt, distantly, as if she had betrayed or caused her immense grief once before…

--

Dantooine was the most lush and green planet True had ever laid eyes upon. As magnificent as it had looked from far away, the astonishing scenery was even better the closer they came. When entering the atmosphere of the warm planet, showered over by the first clear sight of a sun, a flock of birds chased happily after them and followed the Ebon Hawk all the way down onto the docking of the Jedi Enclave. The purple and blue horizon colored every inch of the sky, reaching all the way from one side of the planets surface, to the other. As soon as the doors to the exit ramp opened, a peaceful feeling greeted the crew, and all of the tensions built up on Taris momentarily floated away.

After Bastila had safely left the area, surely gallivanting off to go share her experience with the Jedi Council mentioning little to nothing about the help she had received, True made her way towards the bridge. Her feet pattered softly and slowly along the hallway, and she ran her hand over the walls as she went, reminding her of the last night her and Carth had had a one on one talk. The night before her swoop race. The same night that she had tenderly touched Carth's face and felt … _Awkward as bantha fodder between my toes._

Carth heard her feet echo ever-slowly through the hall, which drove him almost to bitter madness at how long it took for her to actually reach him. Ears perking to the final sound of her entering, the pilot swiveled around in his chair. The corner of his mouth twitched up to a smile at the sight of her – finding it amusing that the galaxy map's gleam was casting a blue light across her features which, for some reason, almost made her look even more beautiful. _Nyuhh. Makes her look more like Mission._

"What's on your mind?"

True smiled lightly, and leaned against the galaxy map with her elbow propped out. "A lot." She replied eventually.

"Oh," said Carth.

"I want to continue our discussion from before. You know, the one about you not trusting anyone?"

The cheery expression on Carth's face dropped immediately, and his chest heaved forward sympathetically for himself. As he stood and gazed bleakly at her, his voice fluttered unhappily. "I thought I said I didn't want to talk about it anymore."

"Oh no, you did," pried True. "But don't you think you would feel better if you talked about it?"

"Listen, sister… just because we're working together doesn't mean you get to badger me with constant questions!" _Frustrating woman. _Snapped the pilot, standing from his chair and storming quickly past her out of the bridge.

"Do we have another problem, again?" True stammered quickly, as he moved hurriedly in front of her.

Pausing angrily in the hallway, and flipping quickly around to face her, Carth felt his jaw tighten and loosen in anger, and his fists clenched in the most aggravated of ways. "Blast it if you weren't the most frustrating woman to talk to! Isn't there someone else you can harass for a little while?"

"What exactly is it about me that frustrates you?" True said as sweetly as possible, taking a step toward the pilot and cocking her head to the side.

"Oh no, I'm not falling for that one. I wasn't born yesterday, you know." Muttered Carth morosely.

"And you think _I'm_ frustrating to deal with." True added atop the already high-built wreckage of the conversation.

"What? Me? What did I do?" Carth asked quickly, confused and feeling rather berated.

"You don't know? Typical male." True replied tersely.

The pilot looked around uneasily. He didn't know if his chance at redemption had gone or was still there or what it was doing. Bowing his head forwards slowly, he squared his shoulders back lightly. "I…" he exhaled easily. "Ok. I give up. You win."

Turning his back to True again, he motioned for her to follow him as he advanced through the Ebon Hawk and stopped at the dead center of the ship, in the large circular room where Zaalbar and T3-M4 liked to hang about, where he seemed disinclined to move. "Look, I suppose I… could use someone to talk to. I'm just not used to it. And I don't know why you're so interested, but here it goes." The pilot paused. Perhaps for dramatic effect, or perhaps to ward off distressing feelings that were reigning down upon him like a hailstorm. "When I think of all the men who have betrayed us the one that stands out above them all is the one I respected the most. Saul."

True shifted closer to him, and perked an eyebrow at his sudden obedience. "You say that name like I should know it."

"With good reason. Admiral Saul Karath is the commander of the entire Sith fleet. He's half the reason Malak has done so well in the war. He taught me everything about being a soldier… I looked up to him." Carth took a moment to clamber over the ripped and mangled foundations of his memory. "Saul was my mentor… he led us to so many victories against the…" he looked around quickly before continuing, dropping his voice. "Mandalorians. Even when things looked to be their worst.

"I couldn't conceive of it then, but he was slowly turning to the Sith. He tried to recruit me but I just wouldn't have any part of it. Eventually he not only left us for the Sith, he… he gave them the codes to bypass our scanners." Carth stared at his feet, and gnawed the inside of his cheek before continuing with great effort. "I… could have stopped him, True. I could have stopped it all."

True blinked a few times, and was forced to say something which came very hard to her. "Do you really believe that?"

"I don't know. Maybe. He might have killed me if I'd tried, or I might have killed him. I was stupid, however, and I let him go." Said Carth immediately. "I've fought Saul for years, now, and if I ever catch up to him… he will regret what he's done. He will regret it!"

True leaned forward, sensitively. She wanted nothing more then to reach out and touch Carth's face like she had the other night. She wanted to comfort him, be a friend, and understand his pain… "So that's all of it, then?"

"Well… there's more to the story, I guess." He started lamely, finally looking at her for the first time in the whole conversation. Then immediately, as if a switch had gone off, his sensitive and caring mode changed back to the down-to-business pilot. "But I don't want to talk about it right now. Let's go. Bastila said she wanted to meet you outside when she was finished with the Jedi Council."

_Imbecile of a man!_ True exclaimed to herself, frustrated with his lack of softness for more then ten seconds. And yet, deep inside, she understood completely why he wanted to be so distant and secretive. Something terrible had happened to him, and it was written all over his handsome face.

On this particular day, afternoon, stretch of eveningtime – call it what you will – True followed Carth easily off of the Ebon Hawks exit ramp to the perfect planet of Dantooine. It was not crowded, nor loud, and there was a peaceful breeze that played with the scoundrels auburn hair and made it flick playfully around her cheeks and neck, giving her face the effect of being alive. The warm sun shimmered on the white palm-lined ground, glistened on the bronze walls of the ship, gleamed on the hazy rooftops and so on. Most particularly it shined on a building, a tall, beautifully built building consisting of a Jedi Council.

This particular building with such a warm welcoming sent a painful shiver down True's spine upon seeing it. The powerful Force that emitted from it was intimidating. Doubling momentarily back, the scoundrel pressed her temples gently with her fingers and swallowed down the feeling of nausea building within her stomach.

Bastila approached them shortly after. The young Jedi, walking prissily and promptly, stood before them with another one of her 'serious' looks, which gave True an incredible urge to fling a pazaak card into her face. "I have spoken briefly with the Council. They request an audience with you. We should go at once."

True and Carth exchanged strange looks.

"An audience with the Jedi Council? That's pretty unusual for someone who isn't a Jedi. What's this about, Bastila?" Asked Carth.

True allowed a warm smile to creep up her cheeks at his natural caution and lack of trust. For once it made her feel slightly protected.

"I cannot tell you Carth, I'm sorry. I can only ask that you trust in the Force and the wisdom of the Council." Bastila pressed.

"Well I don't like being left out of the loop. But I'm not looking to get you into trouble with the Jedi Council. We'll do things your way, Bastila… for now."

A very unsettling feeling fell to the pit of True's stomach at the thought of Carth not being around, even for so little of a time period. He was always with her – and something was strangely wrong if she, a normal human like him, was permitted before the Council and _not_ Carth Onasi also.

--

The Jedi Enclave was a stretched building with twisting shiny halls, and was full of calm Jedi who carried themselves with the most poise appearance. The Jedi's that walked slowly about the building had an altogether neater hairstyle and a much more thrusting, purposeful look than, well, than anybody True knew. The presence of the Force about the area was particularly hard to describe; a prickly feeling, more warm than cold, and extremely relaxed. The feel of it gave True an edgy sense of foreboding, which in turn shocked her very little when a female Jedi stopped her abruptly in her ascent.

"You there! Padawan! Why are you not wearing the customary robes of the Jedi? Do you mock the modern traditions of the order?" This woman had a strict look about her, more so in her eyes then in her narrow face that was stretched back due to an overly tight bun in her hair.

_Oh this is rich._ True watched the woman place her hands on her hips and toss her head as she spoke, giving off the impression of superiority. "I'm no Padawan. I came here with Bastila."

"Bastila? I have heard of her, they say she has already mastered the art of Battle Meditation -"

"Yes, well, she ran by a moment or two ago. Hard to miss her. She seems to make her presence well known." True cut in; keen to get this foolish banter over with.

"Ah yes. I have heard she has a foolish pride in her own talents." The woman continued, seeming to catch no notice in True's urgency. "But you on the other hand… you say you are not a Padawan? I find that hard to believe. The Force is strong within you. I can feel its presence."

True shifted her weight uncomfortably as the woman looked her momentarily over, cocking an eyebrow with much disbelief. "I really must be getting to the Jedi Council now. They want to speak with me."

"You? They want to speak with… you? Well. I will not keep you any longer. I hope you have a pleasant stay on Dantooine. May the Force be with you."

_Apparently the Force is all over me!_ Without a moments hesitation True continued through the small circular courtyard with a beautifully grown center tree. Nervous cold shots sprang up and down the scoundrels body as she moved closer to the room where all of the Jedi Masters resided. Carth was standing lamely just outside of the entrance, picking something out from beneath his fingernail in a failed attempt to cover his annoyance.

"They're waiting for you." He said acidly.

True forced a weak smile for him, and reached out with her left hand to gently rub across his forearm. The pilot simply looked at her with blank eyes, making a feeble and perfunctory attempt to clear away some of the appalling mess of his mind.

When walking into yet another large circular room, True stared anxiously over a group of four Jedi Masters, and Bastila, standing in a half-moon shaped line. One of the Masters was a small green alien, coming no higher then True's waist. Two were both human men, one old and grouchy, and the other darker-skinned but more welcoming. The last Master was a reddish twi'lek, who was the only one in the group giving the scoundrel a smile – a warm smile, as if they were old friends who hadn't met in such a time.

"Ah, so you are the one who rescued Bastila." Spoke the twi'lek. The words shocked True immensely, since she had assumed the prissy woman standing next to her would have done nothing but boast about how she rescued herself – since that was what she seemed to like telling everyone else. "It is appropriate you are here. We were just talking about your rather _special_ case. I am Zhar, a member of the Jedi Council. With me are Master Vrook," he gestured to the elder man, "Master Vandar," the short alien smiled up to her, "And of course, the Chronicler of our Academy, Master Dorak. Padawan Bastila I am sure you are already familiar with."

True held back greatly from blurting out the word "_regrettably", _but she somehow managed to do so. "Why did you bring me here?"

"Bastila says you are strong in the Force. We are considering you for Jedi training…" answered Zhar.

"Strong in the Force, hm?" True repeated, recollecting Bastila's words earlier on the Ebon Hawk. _Considering for training…_

"Master Zhar speaks out of turn. We need indisputable proof of your strong affinity to the Force before even considering you for training." The old man, Master Vrook, snapped idly.

"Proof?" Bastila retorted angrily, taking a step closer to True. "Surely you can all sense the strength of the Force within this woman… and I have already related to you the events that took place on Taris..."

"Perhaps it was simple _luck._" Counter shot Vrook.

"We both know there is no luck. There is only the Force. We all feel the power in Bastila's companion, though it is wild and untamed. We can not simply ignore it." Argued Zhar.

"Training takes an extremely long time, even when working with a young and open mind. Teaching a child is hard. How much more difficult will it be for an adult to learn the ways of the Jedi –"

"I am willing to try." True but in quickly, biting down on her lip shortly after.

Master Dorak smiled gratefully. "We usually do not accept adults for training, but you are a _special_ case."

"I agree with Master Dorak." The small Master Vandar – of whom had a surprisingly deep voice – said. "Many of our own have left to join the Sith. We need new recruits to stand against Malak! Especially with Revan dead…"

"Are you certain Revan is truly dead?" Vrook said eerily, just above a whisper. This caused Bastila to shuffle her feet awkwardly and True could see her, out of the corner of her eye, set a keen stare upon the scoundrels face. "What if we undertake to train this one, and the Dark Lord should return?"

"Master Vrook!" Dorak stabbed immediately.

"This is a discussion that we should go over in private. Bastila, you and your companion must go. This is a matter for the Council alone." Vandar commanded quickly to Bastila, giving her an indescribable look.

--

_A stone gray room, surrounded by a hazy smog. Two figures walked in slow circles before a giant door that looked rustic to the touch. One figure was a tall man. He was bald, striking, and young. His eyes had a sinister evil about them. The other figure wore all black – a black hood covering over the back of the head, and a full black mask before the face._

_There is a tension in the air. An excitement. An anxious sensation._

"_The dark side is strong in this place. I can feel its power!" The man speaks._

_The dark figure pauses to look up at him, before lurching ever slowly to the door._

"_Is this wise? The ancient Jedi sealed this archway." He continues. "If we pass beyond this door we can never go back. The order will surely banish us."_

_The door moves outward from the center – stone pieces retracting in unison until the room beyond is legally accessible. A cold chill._

"_Are the secrets of the Star Forge so valuable? Can its power truly be worth the risk?"_

_He follows the dark figure into the room where a triangular dome sits. As they approach it, three arms stretch out releasing a small circular orb. It shines and shimmers with magnificence, and slowly starts to reveal…_

True woke up and instantly regretted it. Hangovers she'd had, but never anything on this scale. This was it, this was the big one, this was the ultimate pits. Visions of the past, she decided, were not as much fun as, say, a good solid kick in the head. Being for the moment unwilling to move on account of a dull stomping throb she was experiencing, the scoundrel lay awhile and thought. Peering about her bed, as she lay motionless on her back, True wiped the sweat from her forehead and inhaled heavily. Why did she keep getting these visions? What did it all mean, anyway? Being considered for Jedi training was strange enough without all of the weird dreams and eerie feelings.

And what was with the Jedi Masters. Why on earth would they consider her for Force training – to be a Padawan, no less? Why was she such a – as constantly repeated – _special_ case? There was nothing _special _at allabout Force sensitive beings. The Force flows through everything in one-way or another! Things were not shaping up to their full potential, and it deliberately bothered the scoundrel. She worked for the Republic one day, and the next day was summoned onto a star ship by a Jedi - Bastila herself! _That's just it..._

Sitting quickly up, squinting and clutching through the pain, True whipped her legs from the stiff bed and stumbled across the Ebon Hawks slick floor. The steel ground was an immense amount warmer then when in space, giving her feet the lingering reminder that she was still on safe land. She paused momentarily at the door and peered warily down upon her black hooded robe. It resembled so much of the silent Jedi in her dream. Her pale hands reached down for it quickly, and she threw it on. The fabric hung loosely on her skin, and felt warm and welcoming. It felt safe. It felt right. While rushing through the door in a hurry, True left herself a reminding side-note to keep the hood off of her scalp – especially on this planet.

Moving quickly down the halls, scanning every doorway she could for a sight of Bastila, True finally stumbled across Mission – sitting on the floor with T3-M4 by the ships workbench. Ducking slowly back behind a wall, the scoundrel glanced silently out upon the young girl with strange feelings bubbling up from her stomach. The blue twi'lek was giggling lightly, though she was noticeably trying her very best not to as to appear as miserable as she felt – but it was not working. The small white droid was popping its head up and spinning it wildly about, making loud whooping noises while driving around in non-directional circles. At first glance, one would suspect the droid was completely malfunctioning and would immediately – if not sooner – pull out a blaster and start shooting the hell out of it. But True knew that this little unit was not to be taken lightly.

"T3 – you must be the craziest droid I have ever met! And to think you worked once for such strict people. I bet they would drool like a kath hound if they knew what you were really made of!" The fourteen-year-old giggled wildly.

"Well, I see you two haven't stepped out onto the planet yet, have you?"

T3 halted instantly, and dropped its head back to its normal spot on its body. Mission's smile dropped simultaneously. Her not-as-puffy eyes looked gradually up to the scoundrel. "What's the point?"

T3 glided swiftly passed True's legs, off into a far different region of the ship. The scoundrel watched the droid with mild irritation, then back to Mission. "We may be here for a very long time."

"Not long enough to get comfortable. Besides, I may just start to like this planet before you blow it up again." The girl shot angrily, grabbing hold of one of her long blue tentacles and stroking it easily.

"Can I trust you with a secret?" True asked quickly before things started to become more emotional again.

Mission was silent.

"The Jedi Council asked to see me yesterday, and wants to consider training me as a Padawan." She continued.

"A… Padawan? But you're _old_." Mission pointed out, no longer looking up at her, but instead stroking more frantically at her long blue head-attachments.

"Well, yeah. That's what I thought too. But apparently I'm a special case." _Ugh, I'm starting to sound like Bastila._

The twi'lek shrugged her shoulders up and sighed gravely. "That's cool."

"Mission – I'm sorry about Taris. But it's not my fault – I didn't mean for any of this to happen. And besides, in truth, Malak was trying to kill Bastila." _So hate on her instead!_ Said True – holding the last bit in for herself alone. "I wish my life alone was taken, instead of that planet and all of the inhabitance."

Mission stopped her fidgeting and looked up at the scoundrel. Slowly she got up, holding the workbench for support, and stood at length before True. "No. I'm glad it was the planet and not you. You're the best friend I've had besides Big Z. I just needed someone to blame for the destruction of Taris. I shouldn't need to though."

"Well, the planet was basically a dump anyway –" True started, and then caught the snappish glare from the twi'lek "- But so… er - why were you so attached to it?"

"Well. Me and my Brother, Griff, had some pretty great memories on that planet." Said Mission, smiling as she stared at the ground as if watching these memories play in a hologram before her.

"You had a brother?"

"_Have._ I have a brother." Mission stated firmly.

"Oh. I assumed by the way you spoke of him that he… well… y'know." True stopped and held her hands out in front of her in a ball, and then drew them quickly apart in an array of fingers to imitate an explosion.

Mission just blinked at her, unfazed. _Bit too early for humor, apparently…_

"No. He did not die on Taris. He left me there for some slut named Lena… but I don't really want to talk about it."

"Anyone rarely does want to talk about anything, in this group." True replied in monotone. "Well, anyway, have you seen Bastila around anywhere?"

Mission took a moment and then nodded steadily and pointed towards the exit of the Ebon Hawk. "She left a while ago. Looked really upset though – like she had a bad dream or something. Carth left too."

True smiled down to the twi'lek and put her hand gently on her small blue shoulder. "Thanks Mission." With that, she let her hand slip softly away and walked out of the room, heading towards the exit. She wasn't completely sure if she had gotten anywhere with the young girl – but at least she didn't seem to blame her anymore. _I didn't know she had a brother…_

"Oh, and uh, True?"

The scoundrel turned around in a snap. "Yes, Mission?"

Mission stood stubbornly in the hallway, hanging onto the edge of the doorway and bobbing up and down on her toes in a childish-nervous way. "Your secret is safe with me. Thanks for trusting me with it… I really hope you become a Jedi. I think it would be fun."

Dantooine's sun glared heavily upon the eyes when exposed to so early in the day. The long beams of light shot directly down on True as she immerged from the Ebon Hawk; a hand held steadily above her face to block the rays from her sights. Standing aimlessly around the ship were her scattered companions. Canderous was leaning against one of the outstretched landing-legs of the vessel, flipping his gun around in his hands as if to show it off to anyone who dared come and mess with him. Zaalbar was talking to a very pale-skinned twi'lek who was wearing one of the most revealing outfits True had ever laid eyes upon. And then there was Carth, who at first was talking to a merchant who was more or less likely trying to convince him to buy some stolen and unneeded ship parts – but as soon as he caught a glimpse of the scoundrel, he made way for her side.

_Oh great._ True glanced about her icily, trying to find a quick way to avoid contact with Carth. It wasn't that she didn't want to speak with him, but she was on a particular rampage to find Bastila and ask her exactly what was going on – and why everything magically seemed to circle back to her and that day on the Endar Spire. Darting quickly to the left, True tried to make a giant loop around him, as if not to notice him, but he caught onto that far too fast.

"This morning is getting stranger by the minute." Said Carth as he walked quickly before True, grabbing her elbow and tugging gently on it, just hoping she would stop. The gesture was successful.

"Oh?" Said True with a dry voice.

"Well, first Bastila comes out looking like she has seen a ghost," Carth dropped his hand from the cloth of her oversized robe. "And now you. Why are you trying to avoid me?" _What have I possibly done now?_

"It's not so much that I'm trying to avoid you, as I am trying to get to Bastila." True stammered quickly, scanning the huge opening for any sign of the woman.

Carth's heart felt weak. He knew she was truly trying to avoid him. He knew that there was something going on that was of immense importance. He knew he was also being purposely left out of the loop. He glanced down at his hand where his fingers had touched her skin. She had felt cold to the touch, and it was radiating even through her wardrobe. "Well, Bastila said you better get your 'Force rearing back-side' to the Council chambers as soon as possible. I guess they're waiting for you – so you better hurry."

True caught a glimpse of the space pilot's actions and felt strangely contented. The dying gleam in his eyes sent a prosperous quake down her back, and she felt inclined to settle his obviously worried mind. "I had a rough night."

The switch to compassion in her tone led Carth into a more legitimately mild mood. "I haven't been sleeping well myself." His voice strained, and it was obvious to guess the words that came consequent to this. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." She answered, hoping to move onto the most adjacent thing possible. "Did Bastila say anything else?"

"No. She just seemed disturbed."

--

"Bastila has informed us of a most unusual development. She says you and her have shared a vision of Malak and Revan in the ancient ruins here on Dantooine." Said Master Vandar as True stood, once again, before the Council. The palms of her hands were undeniably sweaty as she fortified herself, waiting for the Council's decision.

As he spoke of Bastila coming to them with news of the two 'sharing a vision', however, she turned to denote why the Padawan had not come and spoken directly to her about it. "You saw it too? You saw it, and knew that I had seen it, and didn't come try to explain it to me?"

Bastila pursed her lips at this. Her dark eyes stared blankly upon True, peering through dark brown bangs that hung loosely off of her forehead. There was a cloud of tension that, if you reached out to touch it, you would feel its presence. True didn't have to be Force sensitive to know that there was, yet again, something being indisputably hidden from her.

"The Jedi Masters should be informed immediately when things like this happen." Explained the hotheaded woman.

"Indeed," added Dorak, attempting to better the mood. "It is strange for two people, especially one who is not trained in the Force, to have visions that belong to neither of them."

True juggled the options for a reply to this. Everything about these days was strange anymore. Having a vision that didn't belong to her, much like the continual ones of this Revan figure, were far from her present worries. There was a strong inadequacy in answers, and that was all that she wanted anymore. "Well, I would prefer to not have these visions."

"But you do!" Snapped Vrook, slamming his fist into the palm of his opposite hand. "And it means something. You two are bonded in such a way that makes this all seem much too important to ignore."

"That is why," Continued Zhar, "we have decided to accept you for training." The smile that always seemed to be on his face shone even wider now, and he squared his shoulders in a respectable way.

True stared at all of them in turn. She searched for answers on their faces. "How does Bastila know we shared a dream?"

Master Vandar's pointed ears twitched back and forth, and his eyes grew very incanting. "She says she felt your presence within the dream, the same presence she has felt within you ever since – "

"Master Vandar!" Challenged Vrook.

" – ever since Taris. It is not rare for this to happen between two people who are strong in the Force."

"You and Bastila share a powerful connection to the Force… and each other. This is not unheard of – but usually this doesn't occur so quickly." Added Zhar.

"Whatever dangers you two may face, we can not ignore the destiny that has brought you two here. Together." Finished Vandar.

"Are you saying I'm joined… with her?" Said True in an empty tone of voice.

"It is your fate to be together. It is possible that you may both be able to defeat Darth Malak and the sith – "

"You know what? I see what's going on here. Really, thanks… but no thanks. I'm going to go back to my ship now, and leave this planet far behind. Good luck with all of those… sith." True stammered as she slowly backed away, hands held apologetically before her, and then practically sprinting out of the chamber entrance.

"Leaving again. I see old habits never change." Master Vrook scoffed, amused.

Bastila ran quickly behind her.

"True! True Baill! Would you stop a moment!?"

The fast repetition of their feet beating the ground tapped and bounced furiously against the walls in the narrow hallways. Jedi Padawans and Masters slipped quickly out of the way as first True, and then Padawan Bastila, came hurtling down the center, one chasing after the other.

The pure nonsense of this planet drove True to fits of confused anger, and she wanted nothing more then to leave. All of the secrets, and the Force powers, and the defeating of the Dark Lord… all that the scoundrel had in mind for the rest of her life was fighting on the battle lines with fellow Republic soldiers. She had nowhere in her future plans to be teamed up with a prissy Jedi Padawan, who upon directly meeting had left a particularly bad impression upon her. _Lying, cheating, deceiving. There is no way I would ever consider a bond with her. The farther I get away, then hopefully it will break for good._

"True, would you please stop!"

"May the Force be with you, and all of that good stuff, Bastila. Really. Now leave me." True hollered over her shoulder as her pace slowed to a stomping walk.

"I don't understand you. I don't understand why you wouldn't jump at the chance to possibly save the entire universe - I just don't understand!" Bastila called to her, incomparable to match the frustrations in True's tone.

"You want to know what _I _don't understand?" The scoundrel said forcefully, turning swiftly around in such urgency that their noses almost hit. "Is why you requested me to accompany you on the Endar Spire. There had to be a reason, Bastila! And it's because of that, which I am in such a situation!"

Bastila backed out of True's space, and clasped onto the small moment in which she had the scoundrel's attention. "Because you're a damned good soldier. And a potentially gifted Jedi."

"I didn't stand out more then any other soldier!" True said stiffly.

"You stand out more then you may ever know."

There was an eerie sense of foreboding yet again in the back to True's mind, hiding beneath her head of auburn hair, knocking at the gate of opportunity to be let free. She contorted her face uncomfortably and took a sharp intake of breath, calming down the jittery sensations that flew whirlwinds at the bottom of her stomach.

"I don't want to run along with you, half way across the galaxy, playing your little sidekick." Said True.

"You won't be." Urged Bastila, crushing her body down in size. "I know you don't want to be any part of a bond with me – trust me, the feeling is rather mutual – but you can't change destiny."

"Well destiny is going to have to change, because I refuse. I'm sorry." True turned once more around, making an incoherent last attempt to leave for good. She could see her ship up ahead, and she could make out Carth sitting alone on the ramp outside of the Ebon Hawk. His head was in his hands; his two stray strands of hair brushed lightly across his face. His dark eyes raced across the floor and followed small grains of sand as they tumbled around on the ground, searching for some kind of an answer. He wanted to know what was going on, and wanted nothing more then to help and assist True in any way he could. They all wanted to help her.

"Together, we can become so strong… I have waited all of my life to find someone of whom I can grow powerful with. That person is you. Please don't leave, True. I need you – and you need me, whether you're willing to face it or not."

True stared after Carth with a disheartened feeling. Shambles of thoughts raced round in her mind, and torrents of envious power rippled through her body. The Force teased her senses and blinded her hate. _Bastila's right._

--

Days passed into weeks, which turned ever slowly into a month. As Master Zhar had predicted in the beginning, the path of the Jedi had proven to be extremely difficult. The intense training with sword fights readied her physically for whatever it was she may face. Meditation went steadily from levitating a rock, to levitating many rocks, to levitating herself while levitating Bastila of whom could be sitting on an elephant. She studied through book after book of the Jedi ways, and was tested often to see her progress in learning the code. The Masters literally bent and shaped True's once wild spirit into a tamed weapon. Her progress was stated as 'remarkable', and she had learned in merely a few weeks what most couldn't master in years.

Finally, the training was initially over, and she was welcomed into the Jedi order.

But things were not the same. It had been a month since True Baill had set foot onto her ship, or even spoken to any of her companions other then Bastila. The Jedi Enclave had become a cozy prison where she slept, ate, trained, and stayed. The day that she had become a legal member of the order, was the day she swore that she would go out and see what exactly had been going on with her companions, but when the day came, she couldn't pull herself to do it.

Sitting on the edge of her soft bed, feet propped up on the footlocker at the end of it, True stared edgily at the floor with very mild aggravation. Her hands were wringing together nervously, and her left knee was bobbing up and down wildly, but her mind was calm. Her face was stone solid as the sounds of the Jedi Enclave echoed through the halls into her chamber. Soft whispers and gentle voices. A warm feeling rushed through the scoundrels body whenever she opened her mind and ears to her surrounding, feeling the Force in the air that had once felt so foreign and strange to her. Now it was a protection. A home. A power.

Gray eyes springing fiercely up from the floor, True felt Master Zhar's quiet presence before seeing him. Her eyes anticipated his arrival, and she stared expectantly upon the open doorway. Surely enough, he was soon leaning against the panels of the door with his arms crossed, smiling down on her. He wore that same grin that always gave people the impression that he was on something, and that he was in dire need of some rest.

The two stared at each other for a long while, just enjoying the others presence. Master Zhar had definitely become True's favorite of all the Jedi Masters. He was the only one of whom cared about her sense of humor, and seemed to frown upon the ways that the Jedi training weighed down on her rambunctious spirits. She could talk, and he would listen, and she would feel things for herself, and he would make a point to reach into her mind and ease her sufferings and worries. She didn't know what she was going to do without him – but they both knew she would manage.

As the staring continued, True felt a gentle tingle enter her mind, and she instantly counter-attacked his attempt at entering her thoughts with a huge brick wall. Zhar chuckled softly and shook his tentacles with great force.

"True Baill, what is it that troubles you?" His soft voice asked of her.

True moved her shoulders upward, and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. The tapping in her left knee was now full blast, and her mind was beginning to tick as her focus on being calm was disabled by the brick wall to keep Zhar out. That was the funny thing about the Force, she had determined. You just can't win with it. One way or another, it will find a way to do exactly what it intends to do.

"Your companions will think no less of you, Padawan. They are true and loyal to you." Zhar reassured her with a wry smile.

_Damnit. _True flashed him a look of looks. Somehow, he had managed to pass her wits. "I have changed, Master. I have lost who I once was…"

"No, Padawan. You have not lost anything, but instead gained. You have not as much lost who you are, as found." Said Zhar.

True's eyebrow raised high. Still, even though she had been exposed to it for little over a month now, she was not completely adjusted to the 'wise-talk' of the Masters. They spoke in words that seemed like they were quoting directly from a book of ancient years past, and sometimes they lost her completely. It was after the first two weeks that she had made her own wise choice of even when she had not the slightest clue of what they were saying she would simply say "Yes Master," or "I see Master," or "I have to go to the restroom, Master." Either way, it was best to avoid asking.

"Master, I feel like I have lost connections with all of my old self that they once knew." Said True.

"Ah, but perhaps they will respect you more now that you have wizened up a bit, hm?" He asked her in return, shifting his weight from the panel of the doorway and taking a step into the room.

"Well, maybe – but these robes won't help a bit, I look ridiculous!" True said lamely, moving her feet from the footlocker and bounding to the floor. She stretched out her arms and spun around twice, allowing the brown Jedi robes on her back to twirl about. Clothes that actually fit her, felt silly. She missed her giant cloak.

Zhar let out a loud laugh and waved a hand at her. "They're much better then that old black rag you wore around."

"Well, I don't agree with that. But, they are certainly better then what Juhani was wearing when I found her." True said, then shut her eyes tightly and inwardly kicked herself for saying it. But, of course, then remembered who she was talking to when he laughed once again.

Juhani. She was a Cathar Jedi who had decided to abandon the order and become a rebel a short ways off of the Jedi Enclave in the Grove. True had been sent to 'clear the taint' of the area, and when she had arrived to simply talk to the half-cat woman, she reluctantly picked a fight instead. That was a big problem, for Juhani in her jumpsuit of an outfit, because as soon as True had received her light saber, she was fierce with it. She cut Juhani down to size, and the Cathar finally gave up the battle and begged to be killed.

"Well, as much as you may pick fun at her outfit, you did her a great favor by convincing her to come back." Zhar continued after collecting from his laughter.

True stared at a long black hair that stuck out on her brown robe, and picked at it with disgust before acknowledging Zhar. "Well, I didn't so much convince her as _drag_ her back. She really insisted upon staying out there."

"Ah, but you could have killed her, could you not?"

True rolled her ankle about on the ground as she thought of the consequences of killing the woman instead of helping her. "I assumed that's not what I was sent to do."

Zhar nodded once and then turned to leave her almost as soon as he had begun. True's chest heaved slightly as he walked out, pausing only momentarily to give her one last word of advice. "You should go to your companions. They are anxious to see you."

Swallowing her pride, and mild embarrassment of the attire, True agreed with the words and shortly followed in the direction in which Zhar had disappeared. Her step was quick and her heart was pounding with anticipation she had not expected. The scoundrel had more so assumed that seeing her companions would set off a trigger for reluctance rather than excitement.

As she slid quickly past the giant center tree, saying hello to a few other Padawans that she had become regrettably familiar with, True made her way down the last winding hallway to the docking of the Ebon Hawk. When reaching the top of the area, where the enclave floor ended, a sense of relief rushed over her. It had been little over a month since she had experienced any area other then the Enclave, and her spirits were screaming that it was due time. The sun, setting almost completely behind the Ebon Hawk, set a luminescent glare around the edges of the ship. It seemed to shout the words 'welcome back' all over the exterior, as a goofy smile was hard to keep from her lips.

Glancing around her as she ascended forth, she was surprised to see none of her companions walking around the outside. The last time she had seen anyone, which had been Carth, he was outside of the ship sitting on the exit ramp. But now, no one was on the exit ramp, or around the ship, or anywhere in sight.

Upon finally making it to the ramp, and standing still as the door sank slowly outward, there was a twanging fear in her heart. What if none of them were there? What If they all had left on different ships over the month and gone on with their lives, certainly not waiting for her? But Master Zhar had said…

Almost immediately as the thoughts rampaged through her mind, T3-M4's eyes – or where eyes would presumably be – peered up at her from the floor by the workbench where he had been the last time she laid eyes on him. As soon as the droid saw her, it flung itself backwards and then swung through the halls, making loud and excited beeps and whoops as to alert everyone she was back. The sound of feet running wildly around filled the vessel, and another smile tugged the corners of her lips as True made her way to the center of the Ebon Hawk, where they all seemed to simultaneously arrive.

"It's about time you got back! That droid has been restless with you gone." Said the Mandalorian, with a slight excitement in his monotone voice that True was almost certain didn't exist.

"True! You're back! Oh, we've missed you so much! Wow, check out the robes, I like it… uhg, I'm so glad you're finally back!" Mission hollered, bounding through the hallway and beaming up at her. Zaalbar made an un-translatable growl, but it seemed to be happy enough.

And finally, walking quickly in from the direction of the bridge came Carth. He looked at her with wide eyes that, as soon as lying upon her face, seemed to wash away from worry and anticipation. The grin on his face was from ear to ear, and it was all he could do from bounding over there and bombarding her with questions and comments and grunts like everyone else was. _Welcome back, beautiful._

True was so busy with all of the questions from Mission and Canderous of how her training was, and what she learned, and if they could see her lightsaber, that she didn't catch the glimpse of Carth standing in the room, adoring her every move. A light cough from that direction caught her attention, and as soon as she saw him a funny feeling crept up to her cheeks.

"Carth." She said almost losing her breath to her throat.

The others stopped speaking instantly and all turned to look at him, as if expecting him to give her a speech that they had all heard nine-hundred times while she was gone.

"You look good." He said finally, gesturing towards her outfit. _You bungling idiot, you can do better then that._

Mission cleared her throat and threw her shoulders back timidly. "Carth missed you too. He practically never stopped pacing about and saying aloud 'I wonder what she's doing' and tossing and turning in his sleep, and…"

"So where's Bastila?" Carth cut her off quickly, hoping he wasn't as crimson as he felt.

True's heart immediately stopped feeling all 'gushy', and what not, as soon as he had to ruin the moment with his stupid little questions. Not only did he have to cut it off so abruptly, but he had to do it by asking about Bastila. Shivering slightly at the realization that she might have been beginning to feel something awkward for Carth, True unclipped her lightsaber from her belt and handed it to Canderous to look at.

"Uh, well. She's around." True said lightly, pretending to be more interested in Canderous' examination then anything the pilot had to say.

"Oh. Well I assumed she would be around you, with your close bond and all." Said Carth.

True's eye twitched as he said it. The 'bond'. Oh, she had heard of it non stop between the Masters and all of the esteemed Padawans bounding around the Estate. Everyone had been informed of her and Bastila's connection, and it was the only driving force behind their actions. Foolishly, obviously, she had assumed that at least her companions would not bring it up – _but of course, I could only expect oh-so much of Onasi._

--

A dark blanket fell completely over Dantooine, and it was the first time that True had really stopped to stare up at the billions of stars in the galaxy above. The twinkling white specks overhead danced around in front of the black background, making little connections within each other. The planet was in utter silence. Everything peaceful about the place seemed to be nonexistent in the night, and there wasn't a light on the surface that distracted from the beauties above. On most planets, like Taris, the city lights and commotions were 24/7 and more. To be able to see the actual surroundings of a planet was rare.

Exhaling deeply as her back lay against the surprisingly comfortable roof of the Ebon Hawk, True gazed longingly at the skies above. She wished that they were in space again, setting off to the millions of choices beyond, plotting new courses and meeting new faces. Now, however, she didn't know when she would be up there again. Being a Jedi meant sticking it out until you were 'prepared' to go off on your own, and fight for the greater good of the Republic. She cringed at the remembrance of Canderous asking her when they would be off of this planet, and the reluctance she had taken in having to say that she hadn't the slightest clue when she would be permitted to leave. It was bad enough that she had been rather forced to stay inside of the Enclave all day - now she couldn't even leave the planet.

The small door to the roof access swung open, beating against the metal of the ship loudly, echoing across the grassy plains of the planet. True nearly jumped completely out of her skin at the sound of it, and she sat up with great force, arms ready to beat at someone repeatedly. Carth's head came slowly up from the entrance, and he had a rather obvious 'oops' look upon his face.

True's wits settled, though her heart still beat at the speed of explosion. "What are you doing?"

Carth's broad-shouldered body climbed fully through the hatch, and then closed it quietly behind him, standing close to her sitting body. "I was about to ask you the same."

True inched slightly away from him as he sat next to her, and she focused her eyes on everything but the pilot. _What do you want now, Onasi?_

Carth eyed her cautiously, jaw drooping up and down as he attempted to say things that, as a last minute result, seemed to be unfitting. He brushed at his arms in an attempt to keep warm, and the sound of his rough hands sliding up and down his yellow jacked sent shivers up True's back. Goosebumps formed along her bare arms, and he noticed. "Its cold out here when the sun sets."

True rolled her eyes. That sounded like something that Canderous, of whom liked to state the very obvious, would say. Pulling her knees to her chest and rocking slowly back and forth, the scoundrel plotted out ways in her mind that she could use the Force to possibly warm herself up, or perhaps set fire to Carth's yellow jacket.

"So I had a question that I wanted to ask you, that I didn't think you would find fitting around the others." Said Carth finally.

True's ears perked towards him, and the sound of his voice made her jump slightly. She glanced over towards the Jedi Enclave, and scanned for anyone to be awake. When she was convinced that no one would be alarmed by the sound of speaking, she found it safe to reply – still refusing to set a glance at him. "Ask away."

"Well, why is it that Bastila constantly came and saw us for those two months, and yet you never did?" His voice was shaky, and True wasn't sure if it was due to the chill or something else.

_Two months? Was it really that long…_ "I was busy."

"I see…" His voice trailed.

True finally swung her head around to look at him, flinging her hair about in disarray. "Why would that bother me if you asked it in front of the others?"

"Well," he looked into her gray eyes and felt a hot flash billow over his cold cheeks. "You seemed to not like it when I asked you about her earlier."

True furrowed her brow, a twinkle in the corner of her eye. "You sound Force sensitive – or am I just that transparent?"

"Let's just say, I know you." Said Carth, looking at her as though she was an open book.

"Ah, and I know you too, pilot. What's troubling you?"

"Troubling me? Nothing." Said Carth, who was lying.

_Don't play that game with me. _True smiled coyly. Carth really did know her, this was true, but she knew him well also. They had been together for such a long time, feeling out each other's ticks and peeves, that it was easy for the other to sense when something was wrong. In truth, the scoundrel almost felt more of a bond with Carth then she did with Bastila.

"Carth, I don't need Force powers to know you're edgy." Said True.

Carth chuckled, and propped his elbows onto his knees, inhaling deeply. His dark hazel eyes searched her face over for some kind of an escape to the interrogation, but he knew her too well to think he was going to get out of it. She hadn't changed that much. _She hasn't changed at all._

"Alright. I just feel a little bit useless. I mean, you're a Jedi now with a lightsaber and Force powers and all I can use is a blaster and a vibrosword. I just don't see my place here anymore."

A cold breeze rustled around their exposed bodies, and danced across their noses with a sting. True hadn't expected that at all. She shifted her weight around so that she could face him, her eyes portraying a mild shock. "If you want to leave, then that's all you have to say."

"That's not what I'm saying."

"Then what are you saying?"

"Well, not that!"

"Well, then what?"

"I'm just saying that I feel like you don't need me around anymore. I don't belong."

"That's the most _stupid_ thing I have ever heard you say, Onasi! And you – oh you! – you have said some really special things!"

"Oh, have I?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact!"

"Like what?"

"Go take a ride on a comet."

"I have never once said that to you."

"I know. I'm telling _you_ to do it!"

They looked at each other for a moment. The moment became an even longer moment, and suddenly it was a very long moment, so long one could hardly tell where all the time was coming from. And there was silence. They both sat in utter silence, which was of course True's favorite thing in the whole entire universe. The night grew colder with every passing second, and the stars twinkled with much more extravagance then they seemed to a while ago.

Carth blinked a few times, and tried to portray himself as angry. This he completely, utterly, and abjectly failed to do. He shoved his hands into his yellow jacket pockets.

She was staring at him with such intensity that she seemed hardly to notice him looking back at her with such admiration. Then suddenly she shook her head, plopped her gaze to the sky, and inhaled deeply. "Carth, you are very helpful around, and I do need you here. If you want to go, then just say so, because I understand that you have things that you need to take care of – such as cleaning your jacket, and what not – and if you don't want to stay then – "

"True," Carth said softly with a slightly puzzled smile, "all I needed to hear was that you want me around."

It was a long time before anyone spoke. Out of the corner of her eye, True could see Carth sitting beside her with the strangest expression on his face. She couldn't tell if he was frowning, or smiling, or what. And it hadn't occurred to her, exactly, that she could simply turn and look at him straight on and figure it out instantly – but then again she didn't want him to know that she was all that interested, either. Very complicated, being a Jedi.

"So, can I ask you a question now?" Said True finally.

Carth stared at the side of her face, which was just as beautiful as the front of her face – but he would certainly _prefer_ the front of her face to look at. "Ask away."

True raised the eyebrow farthest from him, so that he could not see. _Mocking me now, hm?_ "Well, why did you never come see me for the last month and a half?"

"Two months." He corrected solemnly.

"Same difference."

Carth smiled indignantly, and removed his hand slowly from the pocket. The cold air seemed to attack the warmness of his skin, numbing his fingers before they could reach around and touch True's chin. Her skin was amazingly warm… he pulled her head gently to face him. "If I would have known that you wanted me to, then I would have been by your side faster then this ship can jump to hyperspace, gorgeous."

True sucked in air. Hard. The feel of his fingers, gently guiding her to face him, sent thrills of joy through her body. She didn't know why, or what it was about his touch that caused such a reaction – but it was intimidating. In the best of ways, of course. Their eyes locked, and the funny feeling was just too much; her mind began to reel.

"True! True where are you!"

Bastila's voice had to be the most annoying sound she could have possibly ever heard in that shining moment.

Yanking her head away from his hand, True's eyes rolled back into her head with annoyance. Shoving her palms angrily into the top of the Ebon Hawk, she stood up quickly and walked to the edge, staring down upon her whiny bond. "Yes, self-absorbed?"

Bastila's eyes scanned around for a moment, and then it finally clicked in her head to look 'up'. "How did you get up there?"

"It was an accident. One moment I thought I was in my bed and then -- BAM!" True said stubbornly.

"Well, I have been looking for you for an hour now. The Jedi Council wants us to go search out the ruins tomorrow. Y'know, the ones in our vision?" Said Bastila in a frivolity way.

True squinted away the embittered attitude that started to grow over her mind. Searching the ruins seemed like a pointless task – and it also seemed like something that could have waiting until the morning to be announced.

Carth walked slowly into view behind her. The ship creaked below their feet, and True felt as if she deserved a look of empathy from a random passer-by who might gawk at the current situation.

Bastila's eyes widened after a particular exchange of looks with Carth. A wave of distaste came over her face as if to signal the recent ingestion of a tainted bug. She stared at the pilot and said, "Carth… I see you're up there too… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."

"You weren't." Lied True with the most typical response.

"Right." Mocked Bastila, her look of queasy irritation resembling that of someone who had taken a very long ride in a very small pod racer. Then, with the conversation being finished and her curiosity sated, Bastila turned and sped away.

Likewise with a slow, steady tread, True crossed the roof to the door and pulled at the hatch. She stood in the cool shadows of the dark sky, silently staring down the hole to the ship. Carth's weighing eyes were becoming a tedious distraction. She touched her forelock with an absence of mind, and swayed slightly forward, pondering entrance. Carth moved closer.

Reluctantly, she drew out parting words. "Well Carth, I'm glad you're sticking around. See you in the morning." And she slipped quickly away, tunneling down into the Ebon Hawk.

Carth reached his hand out, long after she had left, and groped at the air desperately. He fixated his eyes keenly on the wide-open door and loomed in the chilled air for a moment. _You're pathetic, Onasi._

--

True hurled herself desperately sideways and somersaulted toward the dead body of the Jedi Nemo. Nemo had been sent by the Council to investigate the ruins, and the psychotic ancient robots that inherited the ruins had mercilessly killed him. True had decided, in the very fast moments of ducking behind the fallen Jedi, that the Council had probably realized the man's absence and presumed there was a massive killing machine within the ruins. With that in mind, the Council probably went down a checklist of all of the Jedi they would particularly like to die – and picked Bastila. Bastila without realizing this, had then invited True along, so that she wouldn't be so scared in the dark and scary old ruins; hence the current situation. The Jedi Council was crazy-mad. The scoundrel rolled across the floor and hid behind a pile of fallen rocks that had presumably tumbled out from the old ceiling some time ago. Meanwhile the security robot, entering at chest height, was suicidally delighted to draw gunfire at True.

Bastila and Carth, of whom were the only two accompanying True into the ruins, both rolled and hurtled around the room in a kind of random panic, tripped, spun, hit the walls, and ducked helplessly behind each other until finding the same safe rock-fixture that True had.

After a few seconds they slowly peeked up above the top of the rocks. As well as the subsiding of old dust in the dark room, there had also been a startling absence of gunfire. True frowned. This was all utterly wrong. It wasn't that the three of them weren't well equipped to battle and destroy two manically confused robots, it was just the suddenness of it all had taken them by surprise. One moment they were discussing Revan and Malak with a very _very_ old robot, of which took a particularly long time to find a language that at least one of the three understood, and then the next moment two massive doors sprung open revealing a duo of killing machinery.

The three turned their backs against the rocks, and slowly slid down from their crouching positions to a sitting. True laughed at what had just entered her mind. Bastila and Carth gave her shocked looks, and a robotic twisting sound indicated the droids shuffling about on the other side of the rock, trying to determine how to handle the situation. It had taken True, according to her own time scale, a year of hard traveling through space to get here. And look at what she had accomplished; hiding. Holding in yet another chuckle that erupted from her throat, the scoundrel tugged the lightsaber from her belt and flipped it on. The yellow blade shot out with a hum, and illuminated the dark area around them. Bastila and Carth reacted in turn, both pulling out their own weapons.

There was a sudden violent flurry. Powerful red shots from both Carth's blasters and the robots turrets hailed across the air in a miniature battle. Bastila and True danced around, spinning and cutting at the legs of the robots. After a long and somewhat nasty battle, one of the robots finally crumpled to a singeing and screeching heap on the hard floor. The other assault droid blew a massive amount of fire towards the two Jedi – in which moment Carth had pathetically attempted to warn "Look out!" – but only True had managed to dodge the blaze. Bastila, on the other hand, battered around in circles with little yelps of pain as the bottom of her robes singed and smoked.

True skimmed across the ground, regrettably scraping her elbows across the rigid, rocky, stiff, inflexible surface, and then stood up with incredible diversity. She threw her right arm out in front of her, cupped her hand as if blocking rays of sun, and lifted the droid off of its four legs, hovering it a good ten inches above the ground.

Bastila ceased her hopping about, and eyed the robot with a deep, ancestral resentment. Carth had lowered his weapons and was gaping at True with puzzled glances as if he had never witnessed the Force being used before, which, perhaps he hadn't.

The robot that True had spinning wildly around in the air was not, at the moment, a happy robot. This robot, however, couldn't make out an organism from a rock at this moment in time, because it was whirling so magnificently quickly in circles. It was happy when it could move about. It was happy when it could see other things. It was particularly happy when it could see other things moving about, particularly if the other things were moving about doing things they shouldn't do because then it could, with considerable delight, shoot them.

True would soon fix that.

She squatted under the robot, her right hand still raised high above her head while she used the Force to spin it about, and spoke to the other droid with a much-softened tone. "What was this all about? You simply could have put a sign outside of the temple reading 'No admittance. Not even to authorized personnel. You are wasting your time here. Go away.' Don't you think?"

"You have passed the test. You are now free to enter."

Blinking back the non-surprise of the ancient computers lack in detecting humor, True turned her attention back to the hovering droid that was slowly deteriorating all of her strength. With one last force of redemption, she flung the robot into the rocky wall and let it slip aggravatingly slowly down the wall with depletion.

The three looked through some dank and grubby dust-covered doors that were identical to those in the dream. True gulped down anticipation. She knew what was on the other side of those doors… or at least she knew what it looked like. What it was, on the other hand, was a completely different matter altogether, and the possibilities looked pretty grim. They had little to offer her because she had little to offer them, so the only way to figure anything out was to go investigate.

Pushing on the center block of the door, feeling the ancient grains of loose sulfur way away under her touch, the pieces crumbled in retraction as the room beyond was revealed. Shuffling through the door, the three wary of the omniscient silence, True stared cautiously at the triangular freestanding structure supported by three legs. Extending from the base were three arms engraved with ruins, just like in the vision. Bastila stopped a few feet in front of it, feeling a dark force emanate from the strange structure. True stepped closer, and reached her hand shakily out towards it. Carth sucked in air.

As soon as her skin barely scraped the surface of it, the amateurs unfolded, and locked onto the ground like a flower drooping its pedals. When this happened, True jumped slightly back, and Bastila and Carth both raised their weapons. The base snapped open and a small orb ascended from the inside, blossoming into a giant holographic image of the galaxy. Little yellow shapes blinked on and off, and the machine hummed deeply.

Clicking off her lightsaber, Bastila's draw gaped open. "This… this must be what Revan and Malak found when they first entered this temple. This must be where their journey down the Dark Side began."

"What is it…?" Asked True, reaching out again and easing her arm into the holographic orb. She waved her hand around some of the stars, and jabbed at the little yellow shapes, but nothing happened and it felt, obviously, like air.

"This is a map. Some kind of intergalactic navigational chart. Revan and Malak must have used this to seek out the Star Forge." Replied Bastila. "We could use this map to find it ourselves… but we must be wary. They may have set traps or concealed what they have found."

At this, Carth had a surge of frustration flow over his body, and True could feel it.

"I still don't understand. What is the Star Forge, exactly?" True continued, trying to brush away the distraction of the pilot's overpowering feelings.

"I don't know. But Revan and Malak were very interested in finding it. It must be a tool, or a weapon… we must inform the Council of what we have discovered. They will decide our next course of action – though I suspect our task has only just begun."

--

Bastila had never been more correct in her life.

The Council had deliberated upon the findings, and decided that the best course of action was to send Bastila and True to find the Star Forge. Vrook assumed that it was a weapon used by the Dark Side, and could only benefit the Jedi. The four planets shown on the Star Map were the four planets that the crew was to venture to, in search of the remaining lost pieces. Oh, and also, just to add to the fun, the Cathar Juhani requested to go along with them. Why? No one was quite certain.

True walked to the bridge of the Ebon Hawk. After gathering her things from her room in the Enclave, and saying her goodbyes to those such as Master Zhar, the scoundrel countered slowly up to the beeping room where the controls of the vessel resided. Carth was already in the bridge, but not yet sitting at his spot as the pilot. Instead, True made a good note of, he was leaning against the wall with his right shoulder, staring out of the large windows onto the sunny surface of Dantooine. He was in deep thought, no doubt.

Desperately at a loss of what to do, True let a small cough escape her lips. The Pilot turned, and his yellow jacket's large medal zipper caught glimpse of the reigning sun, which blinded the scoundrel momentarily in the eyes.

"So," She began, peering over his face for some sign of emotional give-aways. "What do you think about this little escapade the Council has us going on?"

"I think it's pointless, ridiculous, and makes me regret staying." He said extremely bluntly, with a monotone voice resembling much of Canderous.

True was stunned. She stood before him silently, exchanging looks of astonishment while wondering what shade of pale her face had turned.

She crossed her arms in front her chest.

She then removed one hand and ran it through her auburn hair for a change.

She then crossed her arms again, huffing. "What happened to what you said last night? About being 'glad to stay', and all of that nonsense?"

"Well," said Carth directly, shrugging his shoulders forward. "That was before I knew that we would be detouring from the task at hand, and instead running half way across the galaxy to find stupid holograms that _might_ unlock some kind of Sith weapon!"

True shifted her weight and threw her arms apart in a 'what in the hell' sort of way. " What!? 'Detouring from the task at hand'… what _task at hand_? This is the only task we've had!"

Carth tensed and released his jaw a few times, then shook his head angrily and took five steps towards his chair. "Nothing. Forget I said anything."

"No," continued True stubbornly, "No I want to know what you thought we were going to do. What important _plans_ do you have for us, Pilot? How can we assist _your_ needs, as opposed to the entire universe's safety!?"

"I said forget it!" _Blasted woman!_ Carth slammed himself into the chair, and started pulling and pushing random prongs and buttons. The Ebon Hawk fired up immediately, and it hummed with a kindred spirit to finally be used.

True grumbled something to herself, and stormed in front of the Galaxy Map, searching out their next location.

Bastila entered the bridge, glancing between the two. She moved aggravatingly slowly to her chair opposite Carth, and sat gracefully down. Her eyes veered wildly around. "So where – "

_Don't let him get to you. Don't let him get to you. Don't let him get to you. _"Kashyyyk. We're going to Kashyyyk." Snapped True.

She stared blankly at the chart, pretending to seek out the fastest route to the forest-filled planet – but she was really thinking more about Master Vrook's eerie set of advice. _"Before you go, a quick word of advice, Padawan: the lure of the Dark Side is difficult to resist. I fear this quest to find the Star Forge could lead you down an all too familiar path."_

Once more the Ebon Hawk lulled off of Dantooin, hurled across the open plains, and soared off to its next destination.

--

**I have a strange feeling that I'm going to be editing this a lot a lot a lot. But, for now, this is what it is. Just posting it up so that I can get an update out there. R'n'R? **


	3. Flight, Fright and Fight

**(from chapter #1) Shaida01: **Thanks so much for reading it. :)

**Lucifer Yaway:** Haha, yeah I was hoping someone would pick up on that! I love Douglas Adams' books – the humor is amazing. Regrettably, I didn't add any of his wit into this chapter, but I have a feeling I'll use it again eventually. Thanks so much for leaving such nice, in-depth comments. I really appreciate it. :)

--

**Title: A Knights Tale**

**Rating: PG-13 **

**Chapter Summary: **Kashyyyk. The Czerka Corporation has steadily taken over the planet, and enslaved most of the Wookie inhabitance… but, hey, they put in a really nice Walkway! Continual battles, stodgy tears, a new companion, and one step closer to uncovering the Star Forge.

**WARNING:** I recently realized that if you haven't played the games, or at least read the first two chapters of my particular story, you might have no idea what's going on – so don't try to make sense of this. :)

**Disclaimer: **Characters are not mine – I'm not that brilliant, I'm afraid.

**Author's Note:** Mwahahaha. I finished this chapter in two days – that's how much I wanted it off of my hands!! Again – probably will go back and edit through this after I write a couple more chapters. Just wanted to get another update out there. ;)

**Flight, Fright and Fight**

--

"**A Jedi and a war hero… it's a wonder you survived the encounter."**

_Long branches of huge trees weighed down underneath the insufferably heavy weight of their lush green leaves. The world around was dark and sullen. A strange huge medal mechanism sat in the middle of the wild forest. Unfamiliar sounds erupted from all directions. The Star Map lifted effortlessly into the air, and formed into a full-fledged database of the galaxy._

The Ebon Hawk soared swiftly through the orbiting universe, narrowly evading billions of nameless stars. The galaxy was strangely quiet tonight, being a giant endless sea of floating stars and planets. The vessel quaked and hummed, and a small blue screen was shooting out educative numbers of how long this particular journey would continue on until reaching the wookie-inhabited planet of Kashyyyk.

This particular space ship was carrying seven very un-common companions, and a droid. This particular space ship was also, which can be safely stated, carrying seven very un-common companions, and a droid, with seven very real expectations. Lastly, but not least, it would also be safe to state that this particular space ship was carrying seven very un-common companions, and a droid, with seven very real expectations that intertwined perfectly together – though some refused to believe it.

Two man-sized boots plopped rather ungracefully next to the navigational buttons of the bridge's control panel. Leaning back in the pilot's seat, arms folded gently across his chest, Carth Onasi sat restlessly in front of the giant window before him, and stared easily among the vast expansion of galaxy. Hazel eyes peering idly around, the war pilot bartered once again the feeling of exhaustion to wired-awake. This 'trip' was proving to be an agonizingly long one.

Stretching a lazy arm high above his head, the man pushed the backrest of the seat as far as it could extend, and revoked the urge to close his eyes. It was becoming more and more difficult to procrastinate his tired mind, when in the back of it the pilot knew that everyone else on the ship was more-then-less likely asleep. Mission, young and zesty, had fallen asleep some time ago. Canderous was in the back, most certainly on the verge of sleep, if not already. Zaalbar's eyes were constantly hidden by an overhanging puff of hair, so it was impossible to know when he rested or not – but he was probably asleep to. Juhani, the newest recruit, hadn't left the small confinement in the cock-pit since take off, so what else could she do besides sleep? Carth wasn't particularly sure if droids slept, and True was… well, True was… _Come on Onasi. Stay awake. _

Carth sat forward again, flicked himself in the nose as to keep awake, and tried to think of what True Baill, the Jedi-turned scoundrel, was doing at this very moment. _Probably pining away on her bed, hating me. _Hefelt slightly culpable for the argument he and True had had earlier – and, well, he had good reason. It was basically his entire fault. She hadn't spoken to him since the argument, and quite frankly, he hadn't wanted to either. Except for now.

Rubbing his eyes in a drastic attempt to defy his exhaustion, Carth yanked his feet from the control panel and forced himself to stand. Shaking off the bleak thoughts of his closest companion, he stalked around the bridge for a bit, stretching out his legs and wobbling his arms around. When he was finally contented the he had ward off the urge of sleep, he advanced slowly over to the large window and stared more fiendishly through it. The lusciously green planet of Kashyyyk was now in clear view before them, welcoming the fast-moving vessel. Leaning slightly forward, Carth placed his hand against the cool bullet-proof glass, and distantly wished he could fall past it…

"Mister Onasi?"

Jolting around in surprise, Carth glanced preposterously at the Cathar. She stood very diffident in the corner, face masked over by shadows, staring upon him with blank yet curious eyes. Carth gulped down his nerves, and released his automotive hand from his pounding heart.

"Juhani… you startled me." He said coolly, hoping for an explanation as to why she was up so late – sneaking around the ship no less, trying to scare the pilot half to death. It would be rather difficult to fly a vessel, it might be added, if there is no one alive to direct it.

"I'm very sorry. Sometimes I forget how scared people can be when they are not exposed to the horrific things that I have seen. The people that have not yet been lured to the Dark Side… not been licked by the ecstasy of death…" Juhani replied eerily.

_Okayyyy then…_ Carth deliberated on if he should give her a smile, or nod, or what. So, he simply shuffled his feet, staring at her blankly. "Is there something you needed?"

"No. But True…" She wavered off, and stared at her hands as if something brilliantly distracting had caught her eye.

Carth stood very silent for a moment. His heart stopped at the mention of the scoundrel's name, and he readied himself for what she might say. Was something wrong? Was True okay? _Spit it out!_ "True… True what?"

"She wanted me to ask you if she should start to wake everyone up, since we are entering the planets orbit." Juhani finished, snapping her head up fiercely and dangerously at his impatience.

"She…" Carth distorted his face furiously. "She couldn't come and ask me that herself?"

"Well obviously not." Juhani said in a sweet voice, thick with impatience. "Otherwise it would be her standing here, not me." There was a moment where neither said anything, and Carth kicked at the ground angrily, which confused the Cathar greatly. "Oh, she also mentioned something about you being a 'useless gamorian back-side that relishes in the opulent superiority of himself'."

Carth scowled furiously, slammed down into chair, and huffed around in his own way. _Opulent superiority of myself? She has NO idea what I have been through; let alone what I have lost. That stubborn, harsh, infuriating woman! _"Well, you can tell her that if she has anything to ask me, then she better come ask me herself."

Juhani stood very still, cat-shaped eyes un-blinking, and she stared with a stone face upon the pilot. "Alright. Then… should I start to wake everyone up, since we are entering the planets orbit?"

Carth slammed his head forward onto the computer module and sighed heavily – and perhaps a bit overdramatically. "Yes, Juhani."

Towards the back of the Ebon Hawk, sitting on the floor with her legs crossed, True Baill inhaled slowly. Exhaled slowly. Inhaled slowly. Exhaled slowly. Inhaled… _Oh for the love of the Force._ Pushing her legs out from underneath her, she sat on the floor with her feet out in front of her, leaning her back against the edge of her bed. She was the only one in the room, practicing her meditation at the request of Bastila Shan. Bastila, of whom had berated on True ever since they had departed Dantooine, had seemed to initially take it upon herself to be the former scoundrels 'master'. She had given the woman inclusive instructions to study the Force, focus on quieting her mind when she could, and practice the almost impossible art of battle meditation. True, for some reason far unknown to herself, simply went along with the whole jumble of necessities.

In truth, the new Jedi was starting to tire of her reluctant arguments with Bastila, and was happy to oblige her wishes if it meant being alone. True had many things to think about, and prepare herself for in her own little way. For example, she couldn't help but recollect constantly on all of the things that the Council had told her upon their first meeting, referring to her as a special case, and talking constantly about this Revan figure who had turned on the order. Vrook's words also seemed to echo in her mind whenever she was practicing her 'silent time' – at Bastila's request – making it practically impossible to focus.

Feeling discontented to continue in her meditation, True stood slowly from the floor and patted non-existent dust from the sleeves of her Jedi robes. She sighed miserably. There was a strong something that these robes were highly bereft in. Her old attire, fully black, hooded, and strangely huge for her small body, felt so much more practical to her – but, regrettably, those robes had been latched away from her the first day she had begun her training, and Master Dorak had quickly disposed of them. She assumed they disliked them so much because they resembled the Sith – but, what could she say? The Sith had good taste.

She smirked slightly at the remembrance of saying the words, "The Sith have good taste" to Master Vandar as he questioned her attraction to the black robes, and watching him scramble desperately around on the floor, floppy ears bantering around wildly, and basically chucking books at her head in a failed attempt to change her mind.

True's head snapped slightly up as a tingling sensation overwhelmed her body. "Canderous." She said warmly, as the Mandalorian walked in with an eyebrow raised high in the air.

"I must say, that Force stuff is pretty creepy." He said with his gruffy battle tone. True chuckled light-heartedly. "I just thought I would come in here and…"

"Check on me?" She attempted to finish for him, perhaps a bit too eagerly.

Canderous choked. "Well, I was going to say something more around the lines of making sure you haven't snuck off and left us here with that annoying Jedi."

True smiled and shook her head earnestly. "I wouldn't do that to you."

"I hope you don't ever end up like her." He said blandly, narrowing his eyes dangerously in on her. True simply shook her head more rashly, and gave him an 'are you crazy' kind of look. The scoundrel took a few steps forward… and then was hurtled with great force into Canderous chest. _Aren't most chests supposed to be cushiony…?_

The Ebon Hawk twisted wildly about, and screamed with the impression that it was doing something drastically out of the original plan. Pushing herself off of Canderous's body, she leaned against the walls of the hallway; almost crawling along them at the angle the ship was flying.

T3-M4, much like he had when they were trying to escape gunfire from the fighters over Taris, whizzed by her with a hissing-scream. It was in that moment that True had initially made up her mind that Carth Onasi was by far the _worst_ pilot she had ever had the unfortunate pleasure of encountering.

"What is going on!?" Screamed Bastila from the other side of the centered room as True stumbled into it.

"Onasi's piloting. What do you expect?" She shot back, eyeing the hallway toward the bridge longingly, dreading the formidable journey from _here_ to _there_ while the ship was whipping about in crazy directions.

Finally, with such a suddenness that Mission yelped, everything completely stopped; in fact, the ship wasn't even moving anymore. Everyone stared around in a frenzied check to make sure each and every person was still in once peace. When that was quickly over with, they all ran frantically into the bridge, following quickly at True's feet.

When entering the bridge, they all stared questioningly at the pilot who sat, very stiff, in the main chair. Carth turned slowly around, his hair in a very strange disarray, holding a loose lever in his hand. True scoffed at him. Apparently, this rather important stick-majig had popped off – and obviously it was a key component for the Ebon Hawk to land softly when entering a planets orbit.

"You look like you tried to steer the ship with the top of your head." Mission giggled, pointing at Carth's hair. True choked down a laugh, and pat her hand softly atop the twi'lek's blue head.

The scoundrel looked about her, at Mission, at Zaalbar, at Canderous, at Bastila, and then at Carth.

"Carth," she said, "is this sort of thing going to happen now _every_ time we try to land?"

"Very probably, I'm afraid," he said. _Well, at least it got her to speak to me._

--

The Kashyyyk landing dock was placed hundreds of feet above the planets actual surface. The intimidatingly tall trees grew extremely high, and cowered over above the land, engulfing the planet into eternal darkness. The wooden walkway of the small village, however, was lit with many torches and had quite a crowd inhabiting the area. After True and Bastila had discussed the vision they had shared, determining the Star Map was most definitely at the foot of the planet, the seven companions, excluding the droid, all stepped off of the Ebon Hawk and walked down the Great Walkway. Mission peeked over the edge once, then scooted as far to the middle as possible, gulping down obvious fear.

True smiled to her, trying to ease the girls disconcerting mind, just when Zaalbar yanked the scoundrel backwards with incredible force. True stared up at the hairy beast as he led her away from the others, trying to determine what his intent was for doing this. _Well, this is where he's going to throw me over the edge of the village. Goodbye cruel world…_

"This is my home world," The wookie growled and moaned suddenly. "I should have prepared you for coming here, but I didn't even prepare myself."

Furrowing her brow in confusion, True glanced back at the others as they all stood at a distance, watching them with mutual confused looks. She turned back to Zaalbar. "I didn't leave Kashyyyk on my own. I am an exile."

True's eyes widened. "Why?"

"Twenty years ago my brother made a deal with the slavers and allowed them to get foothold. I found out and attacked him. The fight was stopped, but my father did not believe me when I told him about my brother's actions. If they find out I'm here…" he stopped and was contented to discontinue.

True blinked a few times, then wet her lips, and then blinked a bit more. "Now, Zaalbar, this is probably something you should have mentioned." She said finally in a scolding tone.

Zaalbar growled ferociously at her. "Don't speak to me like a child! You don't know what it's like to be exiled by your own father and hated by your clan!"

Mission ran over to them. "Big Z, what is wrong with you?"

When Zaalbar said nothing, True turned and walked quickly away so that Mission could calm him down on her own terms. This was going to cause problems, and she knew it. Gathering her wits back about her, she presumed to ascend down the bleak walkway at a good distance ahead of the others.

--

The effulgence of the wookie tribe came as a great shock to the eyes as the group was dragged mercilessly throughout the village. The whole situation had happened so quickly that none of them had any chance to react. One moment they were saving a helpless wookie from slavers, and the next minute they were being captured by … wookies. Quite ironic, this Kashyyyk planet.

Walking with a very slow tread, just to prove to the Wookies that they weren't in complete and utter control of the situation, True stared around the sumptuous village with distaste. This, she pointed out to herself, was why she wasn't a wookie. Mission was not a wookie because she was afraid of heights. Canderous wasn't a wookie because he would probably end up killing too many other wookies. Juhani wasn't a wookie because she was too busy being a cat. And Carth, she thought with plausibility, was too stupid to be a wookie. The scoundrel viewed the bowcasters in the wookies claws with utter annoyance as they flashed them in her face.

Chuundar, the black wookie-brother of Zaalbar, scowled upon them in entrance to his giant house-thing. True mumbled something to herself, and recollected angrily on how she had _specifically_ asked Zaalbar what she was to expect of the situation, as they were gallivanting cluelessly along the Great Walkway, and he had simply said _he didn't know_. She assumed he was just being bitter about their earlier conversation, and was refusing to tell her what to expect, just so they would be captured by his old village 'friends'. It was probably part of the whole plan; and the wookies had it all set up. Force them to believe there are Star Maps, lead them to four stupid planets, wait for them to land on Kashyyyk, and eat them. It would at least put some sense to the ironic things that had fallen into course.

When walking through the room, it shocked the group to see so many Czerka men standing around, holding giant guns and seeming to guard the leading wookie.

"Step forward and address mighty and wise Chuundar, outsider. I do not usually allow your kind into my village." Growled the black-haired wookie.

"You are flanked by Czerka slavers! Are they not outsiders? Or have you sold all of Kashyyyk to them?" Zaalbar started angrily, obviously detaining himself from launching at the dark-haired other.

"Ah, brother Zaalbar. You have been exiled a very long time. You shouldn't take that tone with me…" He exuded a gleam from his claws, and then turned back to the group. "Who are all of you?"

True stood amongst the others in a tight group, staring up at the tall animal. She glanced about her companions expectantly, figuring one of them would understand the wookie besides her and Mission, and then reluctantly took a step forward. "We are explorers, merely looking for something we call a Star Map. All of this capturing and dribble-drabble is simply a waist of your time."

"The fact that you are working with Czerka to enslave our people will eventually get out, Chuundar." Zaalbar cut in eagerly.

"Brother, brother, brother. I have pulled many ends of this bargain to ensure it never gets out. It's business, brother, surely you understand." Said Chuundar.

"No, I don't understand why you would do this! Where's father, he will surely have something to say about this – "

"Father is exiled as well. A mad claw, like yourself. He turned on the Czerka when he realized what was going on, and is now enslaved."

"Father was enslaved? What are you talking about? You were the runt!"

"I am not a runt!"

"Runt."

"Mad-claw."

"Traitor."

"Exile."

"Enough!" True said angrily, sick of jogging her eyes back and forth through their brotherly banter. She immediately regretted her stammer, however, when a wookie guard lifted his bowcaster in challenge. Carth's hand flew to the blaster on his hip, and he held it there for a moment, until some of the Czerka standing around shot him warning looks.

"Why did you take us in, Chuundar?" True said - having slight difficulty in pronouncing the name in basic.

"I brought Zaalbar here because he is my brother, and I hoped that he and I could come to an agreement. You all are irrelevant." His eyes flashed warily onto his brother again, and a demented smile played upon his furry lips. "I may be able to put you to use on a menial task, however."

True shuffled her feet and raised an eyebrow in interest. Bastila elbowed her lightly in the arm, signaling their lack of time for such things, but True ignored it. "What kind of task?"

"Well, there is a mad Wookie in the shadowlands that I would appreciate if you disposed of. He has been pestering the Czerka as they work down there – and, well, it's bad for business."

"I won't do this. Do your own dirty work." True spat, taking a step back and threatening to gather her party up and leave.

"Do what you want. You can leave the planet if you wish… but Zaalbar will stay with me, of course."

As he said this, two wookies pushed Carth and Bastila aside, and grabbed the arms of Zaalbar, who showed no sign of resistance. If wookies had vocal chords that could manically laugh, Chuundar would have performed this now – at least, that's what True assumed.

Mission screamed, "NO! Zaalbar!!" and ran forward, burying her face into his fuzzy chest and wrapping her arms tightly around him. The two wookies holding him yanked her fiercely back. Zaalbar growled ferociously.

"Release him!" True said warningly, trying to Force persuade him. It didn't work.

"He'll stay until the mad-claw is dead. Czerka wouldn't allow me to hold _you_, but they don't care what I do to fellow wookies."

"I will not leave Zaalbar!" Mission said through desperate tears streaking down her face.

True inhaled slowly, and turned to face the blue twi-lek. She put her hand on her shoulders gently and stared her deep in the eyes.

"No, True. No, I won't."

"Mission, you can't stay here. It's not safe…"

"No! I'm not leaving him."

"But…"

"What would you do, True? What would you do if it was _your_ best friend?"

True looked back at Carth, who shockingly enough stared straight back at her. A safeguarded reassurance flowed through her, and she shook her head. "I would stay, too." True dropped her hands from the twi-lek's shoulders, and shot vibrosword glares at Chuundar. "We will be back when your request is completed. But don't you _dare_ lay a claw on that little girl!"

Chuundar made a throaty noise, slightly resembling a chuckle, and nodded business-like to the scoundrel. "She will remain unharmed until you return."

The descend into the shadowlands was a long one at best. The crate in which they stood in, still as could be, creaked and cracked as the ropes pulled tightly against the weight. Gorwooken, the wookie who worked feverishly at lowering the crate, told them to be as still as possible as to not attract 'unwelcome visitors'. True had eyed him warily, trying to imagine what could possibly be lurking about over one hundred feet above ground, frolicking among freakishly large trees. Still, however, he managed to give them all a good scare. And, when asked if he had seen any mad-claw running about in the Shadowlands, he had merrily replied that he had only seen a 'mad' human.

When the crate finally reached the bottom, it hit the gound ungracefully – much resembling Carth's landing of the ship earlier. A huge dust cloud gathered around them, though the ground was moist with lack of sunshine. Where the dust had come from, no one could explain… but when it dispersed the group definitely agreed that it was much more splendid to be blinded by dust then view the sight standing a mere twenty feet before them.

"I have to give you credit… you've led me on quite a chase, but nobody gets away from Calo Nord in the end!"

Sure enough, Calo Nord was standing with a welcoming committee of wookies whom held shiny double-bladed vibroswords. _For hating humans so much, they sure are easily swayed to team up with them…_

Canderous was the first to launch into action, without a moment to lose, shooting furiously at Calo with his huge blaster. Apparently he had some spiteful feelings toward Calo – being alive and all, when they had presumed him to be squished by a pile of rubble. Bastila attempted to subdue the wookies with some Force tricks, but in the end it didn't seem to make a difference since they still paraded forward and started slashing deliberately at her face. Carth was busy shooting narrow shots past True's head as she engaged into a lightsaber battle with Calo, who had a remarkably strong blade that stood shockingly well against her saber.

Finally, towards the end of the battle, things started to be looking in their favor. Three of the wookies had fallen, and two had narrowly abandoned the scene, but Calo still remained. The blaster shots ceased, and Bastila stood back in heavy breath. True raised her lightsaber high, "And this, Calo, is where you die."

Calo took a stumbling step backward, dropped his weapon, and stared up at her in terror - though, trickery was afoot. In a flash, the man's hand flew to the pocket of his jacket and he revealed a jet-black grenade, which he tossed quickly at True's body.

An ear-piercing explosion.

A bright light.

Pain.

True flew through the air and landed painfully on her side, sliding across the damp ground on her shoulder. The last thing she saw was Calo Nord being pierced through the chest, from the back, with a purple-bladed lightsaber. _But who…_

Then silence.

--

Her eyes flew open with such suddenness and shock that she bumped her head on a round wall. A round wall in, after a thorough examination, a round hut of a house. Sitting up quickly, True's eyes snapped toward a window – which was round, it might be added – and saw the dark giant-treed world beyond. She was still on Kashyyyk. She was still in the Shadowlands. She was presumably alone, too._ Kidnapped._

She didn't need this, she thought to herself, this of all things she had no need of. She didn't ask to be here. In fact, if asked where she would rather be instead she would probably have said she would like to be on Manaan, basking in the rays of it's many suns.

Shoving her feet off of the bed that she found herself laying on, True groped frustratingly at her eyes, and attempted to ward off the horrible pain in her head. As she raised and lowered her arms in repetition, she also noticed that her left shoulder was covered in a mixture of black mud and blood, and the cloth of her robes was completely missing from her arm. She stared at it with query. A gently cough emitted from the corner, and her eyes flashed over to other end of the room where a man was.

He was standing with his back to True watching the very last embers glimmer into a low dark red inside of the round fireplace. He was tallish, darker-skinned, elderly and dressed in long brown Jedi robes. When he turned, his face was thin and distinguished, care-worn but not unkind, the sort of face you would happily spill your life story to. But he didn't turn yet, not even to react to True's yelp of surprise.

Eventually the last glow of the fire vanished completely, and he turned. His face was still illuminated from somewhere, and when True looked for the source of the light she saw a funny round glowy-fixture hanging from the ceiling. It shed a dim pool of yellow light in the small room. The man looked at True, sadly it seemed.

"You choose a cold night to visit the Shadowlands," he said.

"Who… who are you?" Stammered True.

"My name is Jolee Bindo." The man looked away. He seemed to have something on his mind. Conversation was clearly something he felt he didn't have to rush at. True felt awkward.

"I… er… you startled me…" she said, lamely.

Jolee looked round to her again and slightly raised his eyebrows. "Hmmm?"

"I said… where are the others?" She said quickly, pushing off from the bed and rubbing at her arm with irritation. As her head started to clear up, and the throbbing slowly decreased, she started to realize that the round house wasn't a house at all. Instead, it was a hole in a round mountain, fashioned into the strange style of a room. It didn't have a door, but instead a gaping hole. It didn't have what had at first appeared to be a fireplace, instead a hole carved deeper into the side of the hole. Oh, and the bed she had been resting on wasn't a bed at all, instead it was a giant mound of dirt piled high with old piles of cushion.

"You can come in now, she's perfectly fine."

Bastila and Carth, running at an alarmingly quick pace, rushed into the hole and eyed her up and down for themselves. Bastila sighed with relief and Carth… well Carth just stared at her, and then at the floor, and then at the wall, and then seemingly decided that he didn't need to be in the hole, and walked back outside to join Canderous. True blinked.

"Well that's a relief. I will admit, I wasn't sure how you would favor after that grenade blew you through the air." Bastila said, looked gravely at True.

"You are lucky I was there to kill him off. What is a group like you doing down here, I wonder." Said the old man as he ran a hand through his graying beard, eyeing them both in turn.

Bastila was short to say anything. True inhaled slowly. "We're down here to find a crazed Wookie. Have you seen him?"

Jolee paced thoughtfully. "Maddened with grief, perhaps, but not crazed. I helped him pass to the lower forests earlier – but that can't be the _only_ reason you're here. On this planet, let alone. This isn't particularly a place for tourism."

True pondered a legal elucidation, and found the truth was regrettably the only sane explanation. Raking her fingers through her hair, she cast eyes to the ground. "You wouldn't know anything about a Star Map, would you?"

The man's shaggy gray eyebrows dropped in unison. He scowled and mumbled and immediately stalked out the door. Bastila and True exchanged confused looks, and then hurried after him. Canderous and Carth stared at them with profound confusion, and Juhani was preoccupied with petting a strange animal that looked like the descendant of a monkey. An eerie thunderclap rippled overhead.

Jolee finally stopped his rampage, and turned on True. "I knew that had to be why you were here. The problems of the Wookies and the once beautiful planet don't acquire to the needs of the Jedi. Oh, no. You're here for the map."

True conserved the urge to smack him in the face. She didn't have time to listen to him whine about his precious planet, or his precious wookies, or his feelings about the Jedi. Apparently he was an exile, and he was crazy, and he was bitter. But she had much more important things to do such as rescue Zaalbar and find the Star Map – and on an even bigger scale, save the entire universe from the destruction of the sith.

"Kashyyyk," He continued, much to True's dismay, since it was completely avoiding the inevitable question, "is a very interesting place, more so then anyone suspects. If Czerka Corporations knew, heh, this planet would be a strip mine. The wookies have their legends that they were not always here. But it is more then that. The trees themselves are strangers."

_What in the name of the Force is he rambling about!? _True detained from interrupting his pointless banter for as long as she possibly could. "Old man, you better tell me where that Star Map is."

"Don't talk back to your elders, child! Look, all I am saying is that there are literally walls in your way. You're going to need my help if you want to get to your map." He snapped angrily, waving a finger in her face.

True rolled her gray eyes lightly. "Well that's all you had to sa – "

"_Don't roll your eyes at me, missy!_"

True felt her face burn red and her jaw go numb with shock. Canderous choked, Bastila snorted, Carth chuckled, and Juhani persisted to now kick the strange animal that looked like the descendant of a monkey.

--

The lower shadowlands were even muskier, wetter, dangerous, and far more confusing then the upper shadowlands – which True had almost assumed to be impossible. And Freyyr, the supposed 'crazed' wookie, was located in the most confusing place amongst it all. If an employer of a map business were to say to his employee, "Make a map of Freyyr's destination, in the order that True had found him," then he would have to say "Make sure you say; take an immediate right after encountering the wookie Grrrwahrr, take a left after the Mandalorian ambush, turn right after being attacked by many poisonous kinrath's, go all the way to the end of the trail where you will fight and kill a giant tarantatek, proceed to turn around after that (because you're an idiot and just went the wrong way), go back to where you had encountered the poisonous kinrath, take a right, and go straight until you see Freyyr." In which case the employee would have said, "No thanks, I found a new job as a dumpster-droid-disposer."

After attempting to talk to the crazed wookie, of whom was convinced True was part of the Czerka Corporation, he proceeded to attack them. Jolee was shocked that his friend would act in such a way, but he would get used to the idea that no matter where this group went, people liked to attack them. In fact, True wouldn't be shocked if her own parents tried to kill her – aside from the fact they were already dead. She imagined they were already plotting ways to come back to life, hunt her down, and poison her next Tarisian ale.

As the battle carried on, True's wounded arm screamed with pain as she blocked a strikingly heavy blow to her left. Sparks from the now four different lightsabers flew wildly about, and Freyyr soon backed away in submission. "I… I am beaten. Take my head, Czerka Filth."

"As disgusting as that request sounds, I'm not here to kill you." True said through clenched teeth of pain as she gripped her left shoulder in discomfort. Carth gave her an apathetic look, and gnawed the inside of his cheek.

"Lies. Your words are tainted. You can't convince me otherwise." The wookie scowled, beating his chest in a frantic rage.

True sighed lightly. "Do you know Zaalbar and Chuundar?"

"Those… those are my sons. Why do you speak their names? Tell me!" He growled.

"Well my name is True Baill. I came to Kashyyyk with Zaalbar. He follows me because of a life debt." _Well, that and a strange companionship with a fourteen-year-old twi-lek girl._

"Well then there must be some good in you after all." Freyyr grumbled lowly. "If only I knew then what I knew now; then Zaalbar would never have been exiled. If only I could reveal to the others how he conspires with the slavers. I wonder…"

"Well what do we do now?" Asked True, starting to become annoyed with the alfresco of the lower shadowlands.

"Well that depends on you, True Baill. You can either kill me or spare me."

"We would never kill you, Freyyr. You need to go back up there and set things right for the wookies." Jolee interrupted, offering a compassionate tone.

True eyed him iniquitously, and jabbed her lightsaber angrily into the waist of her belt. She was still slightly bitter at Jolee for treating her like a child, but then again, she strangely respected someone for once in her life.

"Chuundar has a strong web of lies – but perhaps I could challenge him. I would need something huge to sway my people. I would need something like Bacca's blade, but it was lost down here long ago."

They all stood in silence for a long while, overindulged by the defeat billowing over. The only thing the companions had stumbled upon down here was a bunch of kinrath, a few Mandalorians, a giant tarantatek, and a stray wookie. The scoundrel's thoughts then panned through the events of the fight against the giant beast. Her eyes rolled back into her head… the Force was performing something strange, but she felt it was pointless to resist it.

She saw them fighting the beast, she watched it screech and fall to the ground. She watched herself and the others walk slowly away, save for Juhani. The Cathar, instead, stepped over towards the dead carcass and pulled something shiny from the slimy innards…

True's eyes snapped back, and her vision resumed to the present. She turned to Juhani, perhaps overplaying her curiosity, and stared at the Cathar who was peering out into the dark distance. She sensed True's eyes upon her, and her long pointed ears twitched and sagged as she swiveled to face her. "Juhani, did you find something on the dead tarantatek?"

Juhani was silent as she reached into the back of her red robes, and withdrew what appeared be a long ancient blade, missing a hilt.

Freyyr was overawed at the sight of Bacca's blade.

--

Jolee Bindo led True to the Star Map as he promised. Contented with the fact that Freyyr had gone back up to the Great Walkway with the blade, promising to meet up with them for a final encounter with his son, True, Jolee, and Bastila continued alone through the eerie forest. Everything on the paths and in the area had already been killed off, so the journey was steadily slow but progressive.

Finally, rounding a long narrowed corner, the three came across a giant computer-based system with a holographic alien standing on a platform, six feet above the ground. A tall colorful screen was behind him, changing shapes and numbers every second, humming with an appeased harmony. Bastila was entranced by it, and Jolee grumbled something about it being an 'obstinate machine' and 'good luck getting it to work'. True was a bit too focused on the triangle in the corner to catch the old man's exact ramblings.

She saw the Star Map, she stared at the Star Map, and she even walked over and flicked the Star Map… but the small elliptical ball refused to merge out from the base. Instead, it sat in a stubborn sphere, locked in an unconditionally ancient stone-phase.

"Life forms detected. Determining parameters. Initiating neural recognition."

The monotone voice of the hologram shocked True, and she hopped a few inches back, staring up at it with unnerved feelings. Jolee nodded as if he had heard this a thousand times, and waved his hand impatiently, waiting for the next words.

"Primary neural recognition complete. Preliminary match found."

The old man's jaw almost disconnected from his face, it fell so low. "Match found…? What the…? It always muttered something about "rejected patterns" for me." True resisted strongly upon the urge to stick her tongue out and say, "so nanner, nanner, the hologram likes me".

"Beginning socialized interface. Awaiting instructions." The hologram turned slowly to face True, who was still standing by the Star Map, and seemed to look straight at her. _Creepy…_ "Greetings. This terminal has not been accessed for quite some time."

True stared into the holographic eyes of the rakkatan alien, and shifted stubbornly to the left. The eyes followed. Then to the right. Still followed. Shivering slightly, but then realizing her stupidity as Jolee and Bastila stared at her awkwardly, she focused back on the hologram. "Why have you acknowledged me?"

"Error. Subject displays unfamiliarity to the environment. Behavioral reconfiguration will be needed before access."

True stared at the hologram in confusion. _Reconfiguration… wouldn't it need a record of me already being here to reconfigure for reconfiguration? _She attempted to outwit the computer. "What do you mean by behavioral reconfiguration?"

"I have been programmed with a very limited field of knowledge, and I must restrict access to only those that fit my allowed pattern."

"Why won't the Star Map unfold?"

"Access is restricted. I can only allow access to those who fit the pattern."

"And I don't?"

The system went through continual difficult questions, narrowly avoiding the answers she wanted, and refusing to allow her access to the Star Map. Finally, it asked her to answer a bunch of questions that would refer to her supposed 'behavioral reconfiguration'. The first question contained Zaalbar and trust, which shocked her that the computer knew anything about her companions, specifically when they weren't even around. She had answered with the nicest response she would come up with – trying to answer as 'Jedi' as she could – and was immediately told it was incorrect. She stammered. The computer gave her another try, and she went for the most 'sithy' answer she could find. Correct. Aha, a pattern.

After answering all of the questions with nasty and downright wicked responses, the terminal finally granted her access the Star Map. The triangular structure immediately dropped its arms, and the ovoid shaped ball rose high and mighty, exploding briefly into the map of the galaxy.

Jolee stared at the map with apparent fascination. "This is incredible." He muttered slowly, overtaken with an effusion of shock.

Bastila nodded, peering keenly over it. "It has a few missing pieces, but we're still going to need to journey to the rest of those planets to fully find the Star Forge."

True brushed away the outlying corpulence on her shoulders. The things the hologram had said still spurt down the back of her mind, blinding all comprehension of what the other two were discussing. Why would such an old terminal that she had never encountered in her life be so thoroughly convinced it had seen her before? She walked slowly and aimlessly away from the Star Map. Jolee watched after her with a bundle of questions mulling around in his head.

"Strange, don't you think, that the computer recognized her?" He said.

Bastila shot him a glare for his pertness. Of course he knew. He had to know. He was a Jedi once, and not as dumb of one as he appeared. "That hologram is old and dysfunctional. We're just lucky that she answered the questions correctly."

"Strange, isn't it? All of those answers swayed towards the Dark Side…"

"Like I said," she snapped quickly, following after True, who had gained quite some distance ahead of them, "It's an old terminal that could easily confuse one human being with another."

"Oh sure. You think that it's just fun to play games with the old senile man's mind, don't you? Well I am not senile; I'll have you know. I am not… er… what was I rampaging about?"

--

After the group had bygone the entire Wookie village, engaging into many unnecessary fights with enraged villagers that the crazed 'mad-claw' had returned, they walked through the passage of the room where Chuundar was arguing feverishly with his father. As they entered, Freyyr's face relaxed slightly at the reassurance of reinforcements. Chuundar's lack of a chauvinistic personality grumbled in agony. Mission and Zaalbar, sitting morosely in the corner, were overjoyed to see them.

"Ah, great. Now it's a reunion."

"Yes, son. By the blade of Bacca's sword, I have come to end your treachery. No longer will you sell your own people!" Freyyr growled, gleaming the blade about in the air for all to see. The wookies eyes all twitched with uncertainty, but the Czerka men all chuckled at the broken blade.

"So? I have the hilt! We both have our own ancient trinkets. So whom will the people follow now? You? You are old and weak!" Chuundar shot back.

True had to admit, Chuundar was right. Freyyr's hair was growing out almost as gray and fringed as Jolee's beard, but he had all of them to help out with the battle if it came down to it.

"Shut up both of you!" Zaalbar roared. "I will not sit back and watch Rwookrrorro suffer any longer!" He then glanced at True with inquiry. She felt her stomach do a flop, sensing what his next words would be. "What should I do, True?"

Feeling like she was being asked the question that determined the face of the universe, she stumbled a bit on her words. "Uh… Side with your father. Your brother is a – er – slaver, Zaalbar. It's only best…"

"Then we have no other choice. Chuundar, you must pay."

"That's my boy." Nodded Freyyr, pulling out his weapon, and turning towards the Czerka men.

The battle was short and sweet. True focused mainly on helping the old wook take down Chuundar, but in the end her arm proved to be in too much pain to do much with the lightsaber. Relying on the Force, she turned left and right, tossing people back into walls, levitating them in the air so that others could attack them, and sucking the life from their bodies. When the black-haired wookie finally fell to the ground in a ghastly heap, the battle was over. The remaining Czerka men ran from the building, most likely to be taken down before ever reaching the exit ramp.

"We have done it, Zaalbar." Freyyr panted in the end, walking over to his son and throwing an arm around him. "I am sorry for what I did to you, my son. I was blind. I have no excuse."

"I can learn to forgive, father. Besides, without that, I would have never met Mission and True." He said lightly, kneeling down as the young twi'lek walked over to him and wrapping his furry arms around her. Freyyr looked at him with confusion, but smiled – or looked to be smiling – anyway. "Returning home has lifted a great weight from my mind… but it has been painful as well."

"Well, my son, you will always have a place by my side. I would be honored if you would take it." Said Freyyr.

Everyone was silent. Mission stood awkwardly by Zaalbars side, but True gently took hold of her arm and pulled her close. The blue twi'lek stared expectantly up at Zaalbar, but he still said nothing, yet made no movement to accompany them. The companions turned to leave, and walked slowly out of the village, expecting to never return there again – or at least not for a very _very_ long time.

--

True's gray eyes stared miserably upon Mission. She was sitting stubbornly on the floor in front of the loading ramp of the Ebon Hawk, waiting for it to open and allow Zaalbar inside. But it didn't. It was quite clear that the wookie wanted to stay with his people and his father, and make things right for the first time in four years. He had been away from home for far too long, and it was due time for him to return. The scoundrel inhaled softly as to not reveal herself to the young girl as she stood in beneficence behind her.

_Poor Mission._

If she gained a credit for every time she thought that to herself, True Baill would be a very rich scoundrel. She herself could not imagine being abandoned by a brother, losing an entire home world, and then losing the closest thing to a family you had ever known. True knew, however, that Mission would find a way to cope with her losses – she was young, vibrant, and smart.

"How is she doing?" A familiar voice hummed softly behind True's ear, sending a momentary chill to spiral down her back.

"Fine," she whispered, turning around to face him. "She'll be ok, I think."

"Adieu is never easy to say." Carth nodded, clearly exhausted from the grueling days they had spent on the planet. The pilot then hauled himself quickly past her, and headed towards the bridge. What else was there to say to her? Unless she approached him first he had no place to go berating her about things other then a typical question concerning the ever-lasting mission. _I just wish she would forgive me for being so short with her._

As he entered the bridge, he made his way quickly for the piloting chair, and cranked and foraged the normal routine of buttons. Pushing his two usual stray strands of hair from his eyes, he looked out through the massive windows onto the Great Walkway. It was an amazing site to see, really. The wookies had taken completely over all of Czerka's belongings, and had driven the men completely from the planet. Things were changing, and it was all for a good cause. Because of _her._ Perhaps he had judged this mission a bit too soon before realizing exactly what they could be doing; making history, setting things right, and aiding the republic in the fight against the sith – even if it wasn't directly.

"Carth?"

His heart stopped beating. Turning slowly around in his chair, hazel eyes searching resentfully about the floor, he felt his stomach fill with the familiar jitters they usually did when she spoke to him in that innocent tone of voice. "Yes? What's on your mind?"

"Do you want to talk? You got… well… pretty upset the last time we spoke." True asked softly, stepping into the bridge and walking slowly towards the pilot.

Carth reached around for the back of his head and scratched at it with the buildup of guilt. "I, ahhh, I'm not very good at this, I… I know I owe you an apology. Uh, more then one, probably." He said effectively, surprised at how easy it was to apologize to her. "I was just so desperate to finally face Saul directly over Taris, and now the Jedi have us looking for these… these Star Maps."

True looked at him with impertinence, and tucked some hair behind the nape of her ear.

"I know this mission is important, I see that now," he gestured outside to the window, "its just, like I said, I feel a bit useless. I'm not a Jedi, and this is all way out of my league."

"And how does that excuse your actions?"

"It doesn't. I know, it's… been a while since I've had to think about that sort of thing." He shrugged lightly, and leaned back in his chair. "I just hate not knowing what's going on and feeling this… helpless. But I shouldn't have taken that out on you, I'm sorry. I've…"

True shoved a finger gently against Carth's lips, and smiled. "Been a real pain in the backside."

Carth chuckled and took hold of her hand from his lips, grasping it gently before him. "Well, I'm pleased to hear I haven't lost my touch." His eyes softened, and his tone turned to a shocking stage of earnestness. "So, I'm sorry. Will you accept my apology?"

True twisted her lips around and cocked her head, teasing him. "Hmmm…" She cocked her head to the other side. Then lifted her shoulders and beamed. "Only if you agree to work with me, for once."

"Done! Lets get underway then, shall we… partner?"

True most certainly liked the sound of that.

Suddenly, barreling in at full speed, Mission ran into the bridge of the ship with the utmost look of delight painted across her face. She stared expectantly down the hall, waving frantically for someone to follow. Slowly, the familiar hairy face of Zaalbar popped in growling merrily.

"I am just getting used to being free, finally, and I still have a life-debt to serve."

True sighed with relief, never foreseeing herself so happy to ever see that giant walking-carpet again. She opened her mouth to say something, then felt an unfamiliar warmness to her hand. Looking down, she noticed that Carth was still grasping it – as did he – and he dropped it immediately as they both erupted into awkward and nervous laughter. Luckily for them, Bastila came in seconds after they 'unhooked', and Mission was far too overcome with joy to notice anything.

Leisurely, the Ebon Hawk lifted off of the docking ramp of the recently over-thrown Czerka Corporation, and escalated away from the planet of Kashyyyk.

Next destination: Tatooine.

--

**I hate Kashyyyk. :P Hope it wasn't too, too obvious to tell.**

**Read and Review? I _know_ how many of you people have at least looked at the story – and you either liked it, or you hated it, but either way you should tell me. :) Constructive criticism is always nice.**


	4. A Matter of Opinion

**Blatant0: **I'm so glad you enjoyed it, and am thrilled that the ending had such a nice impact on you. Yeah, Jolee Bindo is becoming one of my favorite characters to include – that senile old man. :) Thanks for the review.

**Shaida01: **I know… it's about time he shaped up a bit. Haha. Thanks for the review!

**Lucifer Yaway: **Well dear, I'm glad that my updates made your week, because your 'book long reviews' made mine as well! I'm trying really _really_ hard to make each and every character unique and included – but it's proving to be extremely difficult… there are many of them. I'm glad you're enjoying it so far, and I'm so pleased to hear that Carth and True's affection's make you say 'aw'. :P Hope you enjoy the update. Thank you for reviewing my story again.

--

**Title: A Knights Tale**

**Rating: PG-13 **

**Chapter Summary: **Tatooine. The Dune Sea proves to be the scoundrel's trickiest encounter yet – and no one seems to be cooperating. With continual battles, recollections of the past, a violent new companion, and Bastila and Jolee's constant clashing, things start to slowly unfold.

**WARNING:** Not much appearance of Mission and Zaalbar in this chapter – and just as a heads up I did NOT add in anything about Missions' brother or Bastila's mother.

**Disclaimer: **None of the characters belong to me. Much of the dialogue does, however.

**Author's Note:** Bam. I have done it again, in a span of two days.

**A Matter of Opinion**

--

"**Savior, conqueror, hero, villain. You are all of these things, Revan... and yet you are nothing..****."**

_Giant, severely broken-down statues sat in crumbles behind the huge medal structure. The sound of wind rapped with anguish around the ears, but the sand and dust sat stiffly, untouched. The allegedly dimly lit cave was deserted and dry. A delicate ball raised high into the air from three medal arms as they fell apart in unison. In a sudden blast, the ball unfolded quickly into a map of the galaxy, shedding a pool of blue light around it._

True sat up in urgency, greeted by the darkness of the sleeping quarters of the Ebon Hawk. Her gray eyes shifted around the room, as she deciphered a liable prognostic to why she felt so unsettled. The feeling was as if she had a strange notion that something was going utterly wrong – as if something was bothering her. Rubbing her right hand gently over her left shoulder as she tenderly shifted it around, the scoundrel gnawed on the possibilities of why she felt as if part of her was basking in anxiety. It was strange. She hadn't felt this way in a very long time – even when she was nervous about meeting with the Council. This was more of a childish fear, the kind you have when being introduced to someone who looks like a murderer.

With the eruption of a loud rustling about the scoundrel's ears twitched in the direction of Mission's sleeping silhouette. She smiled lightly as the young girl shifted around, flushed blue skin emanating through the shadows as her arm reached upward in a stretch. It was good to have everyone close together, finally. Now all of the men, save for Carth, slept on in one side of the ship, and the women on the other, and they were all adjacently near in a comfortable setting. Well, almost all of them. True fluctuated her gaze from Missions spot, to Bastila's, and noticed emptiness. The scoundrel attempted to clasp onto the reasons of why Bastila was not there, but drew a mere blank.

Shoving the palms of her bare feet roughly to the floor, True swept swiftly past Juhani's oddly curled-up body, and stepped silently into the hallway, listening with her mind and ears. The Ebon Hawk was moving stilly through the galaxy with such a lack in movement that it was difficult to tell that they hadn't in fact already landed – of course, it would be bluntly obvious when they in fact _did_ land, now that Onasi had broken the ship and all. As she listened, the controls from the bridge were beeping rhythmically and softly, reassuring the smoothness of the flight, but the infamous Jedi was not to be heard. Walking aimlessly about the ship, sucking in a chuckle that threatened to emit her lips as she crept past Jolee's clamorous snores, True finally stumbled across the brunette.

She was sitting in the cargo hold with her legs crossed and her hands placed gently down upon her knees, with two fingers curving up in an ark-ish circle. Her two brown braids lay motionlessly upon her shoulders, and her eyes were completely glazed over with white. True stammered at the sight of it, erecting an eyebrow. It appeared as if Bastila's own gaze was fixated to the inside of her head, peering through her desolate thoughts like a book.

Bastila Shan was known for doing odd things, but this was a bit on the drastic side – though True didn't really know all that much about her to assume things like that. The scoundrel found it to be odd, in fact, that she could have such a strong bond with someone that she knew very little of. It was probably more dangerous then anything else. She was a strangely powerful Jedi, young, snobby, occasionally foolish and rash in her actions – but she seemed to mean little to no harm. As far as True Baill knew, Bastila practiced mediation to assuage her muscles and thoughts, but the true meaning behind it was well beyond a fathomable span of the mind.

Fearful that she had died, or was perhaps in the shock of a coma, True rounded nosily in front of her and held her hands a few inches in front of the Jedi's meditative face… and then clapped.

Bastila's light purple-hued eyes flashed downward dangerously, and she stared upon True with mild irritation, though her body remained perfectly still. The soft narrow structure of her cheekbones held small round circles above them, revealing that the Jedi had recieved little to no sleep – though she still remained sullenly composed. "You should be asleep."

True scrunched her nose up vaguely, and nodded in consideration. "Yes, that was the general plan," she began, beginning to walk in slow circles before her, "But, your bawling mind has kept me awake."

Bastila glanced to the floor thoughtfully, a sadness shadowing across her face as she bowed her head forward. She shoved her legs out from their crossed position and swung them over the side of the giant white cargo-crate, placing her rangy arms down around her sides. The Jedi wet at her lips slowly, and seemed to think upon her actions with strong repent. "I suppose this doesn't surprise me, considering our bond."

True stopped her pacing and gnawed on the inside of her cheek. The bond. It was perhaps the only thing keeping her attached to this pointless mission, though she was seemingly leading everyone else through it. The thought tumbled forthwith through her mind in a scary reality. "What are you so afraid of, suddenly?"

Bastila's head shot up immediately, and her eyes attenuated upon True. "I have been thinking heavily about Malak's inducements. It is very inevitable now that we will be facing him eventually – and I fear the confrontation will be difficult for you. I am _not _afraid of anything. "

_Lies. She is lying to me._ True toyed with the attractive image of walking over to the Jedi, grabbing her about the shoulders, and shaking her into convulsions until she spoke the truth. Instead, however, the scoundrel backed herself into a pile of food-carrying cargo-containers, and leaned her back gently against them with her right leg crossed lazily over her left. She folded her arms across her chest. "Is it true that you killed Darth Revan?"

Bastila's nostrils flared with incense, but it quickly buried over, almost unnoticed. "It is true that I was with the Jedi strike team that boarded Revan's ship."

True shifted her pendulous left shoulder around once again, waiting for Bastila's egotistical ploy – but she ceased to continue. Staring upon her expectantly, the scoundrel watched Bastlia shuffle through pages of her past uncomfortably. The confrontation with the memory, and of Revan, seemed to whole-heartedly bother the Jedi. _Revan must have been one powerful Sith… _"You still didn't answer my question."

Bastlia's lips twitched into a momentary smile, and she gently closed her eyes and sighed. "We were not sent to kill Revan. We were sent to capture Revan. Malak was the one who betrayed his master and fired upon the ship – hoping to kill us all. Luckily we managed to narrowly escape."

"We?"

"Yes."

True reached out for the elusive answer, but Bastila persisted to be difficult. Rounding her shoulder in huge loops with every irritating response from Bastila, True sneered sharply as a serrate pain jolted from her wound to her neck. Bastila eyed her momentarily, obviously flopping around great consideration. Finally, slowly, she pushed herself off of the crate and walked with self-importance toward the scoundrel. True eyed her cautiously. Bastila reached her hand slowly towards the scoundrel's shoulder with a strained expression…

True smacked at her hand, and ducked quickly out of the way. "What are you doing?"

"Let me see your arm," Bastila said softly, reaching forward again.

True raised a hand threateningly, and glared at her. "Get away."

"True!" Bastila stared at her with impatience, her tone rebuked.

Reluctantly, True allowed the Jedi to push back the scoundrels torn sleeve and examine the wound. The deep red gashes to her shoulder were still gaping open from the encounter to the ground from Kashyyyk. True winced at the memory of flying helplessly through the air, as if the explosion hadn't hurt enough, and dislocating her arm as she slammed thickly into the earth. It had been her own folly to 'pull a Bastila' and believe she was in control of the battle, and she knew it, but the lesson could have been learned on a much more neutral world. Like Manaan, perhaps. Then she would have perhaps landed in water, and hurt nothing… though, a giant fish could have eaten her in such a case. _The Force always wins._

As Bastila stared intently upon True's wounds, she inhaled deeply as to accumulate all of her strength, and closed her eyes. The scoundrel watched her with fascination. Running her hand slowly over True's shoulder, only an inch above the skin, a small gleam of light emanated from the palm of her hand and seeped into the open wounds. True could feel the skin configure back together, healing in a span of seconds in what would usually take weeks to obtain. She backed away slowly, and examined her work with a smile.

True glanced at her shoulder. She touched it, rolled it around, and even went as far as to smack it around a few times. Looking up at Bastila, she smiled to the woman for perhaps the first time in their history of knowing each other. _Shocking…_

"I'm not as terrible as you seem to think, y'know?" Bastila shrugged lightly, walking back to her crate and sitting down in defeat.

"Perhaps. Ah, but do you know what would be really impressive?" True attempted, sick of watching the Jedi's moping face.

"Hm?"

True shrugged her left shoulder forward, and pointed at the sheared cloth that was completely missing from her arm. "If you could repair clothing."

Bastila couldn't help but chuckle. True smiled at the sound of it – and then dropped the expression and glanced at the wall, horrorstruck and dumbfounded. _Are we actually bonding?_ The scoundrel shook her head with facility, rolling her auburn hair about her face. She couldn't let her guard down now, just when she was beginning to have a reason to hate the stubborn little liar…

Or, perhaps she wasn't all _that_ bad.

They stood awkwardly in the cargo hold, glancing about at almost everything but each other, pretending that almost anything had a spectacular sight about it that demanded a good long glance. A prickly feeling emitted up both of their backs and spiraled around their nerve-systems. In unison, the two Jedi's flashed their gazes (making sure not to look at each other) to the doorway, where Canderous popped his head in. "We're about to begin our _fun_ landing, so, you might want to grab onto something."

The Mandalorean then disappeared in a hurry back to whence he came. True and Bastila exchanged stammering glanced, then made for opposite sides of the room, steadying themselves in the most convenient places they could find.

--

Tatooine was a huge planet, orbited by two suns, and covered in vast span of sand that encircling the entire surface. It was a dry planet, hot as coals, and frowned upon greatly by most by passers. The planet was, at one point in time, full of large oceans and a world-spanning jungle – but this biosphere was destroyed by an orbital bombardment many _many_ centuries earlier by the Rakata. Now, the inhabitance of this world were mainly poor merchants, and locals who were steadily known for being moisture farmers. The native bipedal sentient species were Jawas, and Tusken Raiders – better known as Sand People. The docking bay of Anchorhead, the town in which neighbored the huge sandy desert known as the Dune Sea, was blown over with a mile-high cloud of dust as the Ebon Hawk came to a jittery land. A dark-haired man, wearing oddly colored attire, threw an arm around his face as he walked slowly towards the ship, blocking the powerful heat of the vessel as it tossed sand about his body. He waited patiently just outside of the loading ramp anticipating it's opening.

When the door finally zipped open, and the ramp stretched slowly downward, his face turned from a snear-ish smile to a wide-eyed inquiring as the group of now eight walked slowly down the ramp. They were an odd group, ranging from different ages, to different sizes, to different species that this particular man had never even heard of – but non-the-less this man had a certain job to tend to, and was not supposed to ask personal questions. "Greetings," he said with a very fake smile, "Welcome to Anchorhead, potential customer. You are, er…." The man pulled out a datapad, and dabbed a finger slowly down in the corner, scrolling through a list of ship names. "Not on this list. There is a docking fee of one hundred credits."

True stopped abruptly before the man, eyeing his green and orange Czerka uniform in disgust, and then fluttered her eyes up to him with a smile. _Well they sure are abrupt on this planet._ "And if I don't?"

The man raised a bushy eyebrow, and smirked at her stubbornness. "Then you will be forced to leave."

True looked about her, detecting absolutely no one but this _one_ measly man. How was he going to enforce anything upon her? Her and, let alone, her six companions, and a giant wookie? The scoundrel popped her hip slightly out and cocked her head in confusion to the man's threats. As she did this, his eyes wandered uncontrollably up and down her body, and he couldn't help but allow a small smile form on his lips. _Aha…disgusting man…_

"Well… come on, now." She pouted, rocking her hips the other way and taking a step closer. "Couldn't you just make one little exception?" It seemed to be working. The man opened and closed his mouth a few times as she stepped closer to him, running a finger now loosely around his nametag. "Niira, is it?"

"H-how did you know my name?" He stuttered dumbly. True refrained from smacking him in the face for being so easily deluded, but continued the flirtatious banter.

"Well, I would like to know more then your name, handsome – but I have some important business to attend to, so how about me and you just forget about the cute little fee and go our separate ways?" She was now tapping two of her fingers along his chest as if they were walking up to his ear. He made a funny sound.

Her companions, standing closely behind her, were all as equally dumbfounded as the next. Mission was overly disgusted. Canderous was battling with laughter. Bastila hadn't blinked since the flirting started. Juhani was listing off ten ways in her mind that she could use her fingernails to kill the man. Carth had one eye twitching with irritation, and was refraining _heavily_ from jumping forward and punching the Czerka Corporate in the face. Zaalbar was trying to figure out why in the name of the Force True would want to mate with this man…

And Jolee stepped forward, yanked True backwards, and stared intently into the man's eyes. "We don't need to pay the fee."

Slowly, with his head now wobbling from side to side in a kind of confused trance the man repeated in a much nicer tone, "You don't need to pay the fee."

"You will forget we were ever here…" said Jolee.

"Who are you??"

Apparently, those who were vulnerable and weak minded could easily be persuaded with the Force. The Czerka man walked slowly away, a slightly happier skip in his step, and proceeded to talk to the wall. The group stared after him in slight shock, not entirely digesting what had just happened. True turned angrily towards Jolee. "I had it under control!"

"That was utterly repulsive." The old man said grouchily, feeling slightly proud at his deluding persuasion.

True's eyes twitched as she refrained from rolling them up towards the sky. She stared at the old man. The old man stared back. Finally, Jolee grumbled with frustration, mumbling something or other about how 'kids never appreciate', and started towards Anchorhead. Standing still in the same place, arms folded angrily across her chest, the scoundrel watched him walk away with much annoyance. Carth stared awkwardly at her back, and finally took a few steps forward, grasping her elbow gently while whispering softly into her ear, "Maybe next time you could skip the flirting, and go straight to the Force persuading…?"

True giggled inside.

--

After being approached by an alien who had insisted that she had ordered a giant shipment full of bouncing little Gizka, True and the Jedi companions, plus Canderous, continued through to Anchorhead. Carth had insisted upon staying with the ship, just incase the Czerka man had a recollection of memory, and Mission and Zaalbar preferred to gallivant on their own for a little while.

Anchorhead was a busy place, mulled over by heavy sand, and surrounded by high yellow-ish walls. The inhabitance of the town were notably busy, each of them playing their own part at hurriedly getting some job-or-another done, and they all were pretty tight-lipped about the Star Map situation. Whenever True pulled someone over, "Excuse me, do you know of a Star Map?" They would either simply shake their heads or mow her question entirely over with different questions, such as "Have you seen a man named Dole, walking around?" or "Did you catch that swoop race?" or "What is this brown stuff all over my hands?" Either way, they were heading nowhere – fast. Not to mention almost every single being that passed them by seemed to notice the left sleeve of True's robe was missing, and stared questioningly upon her.

After attempting to ask around in the Hunting Lodge, which had oddly enough been Canderous' brilliant plan, the group had been disputably thrown out and denied entry. They would probably not have been denied further accessed, or even thrown out – it might be added – if a group of three Gomorrean's hadn't decided to imprudently shove Juhani recklessly from behind while laughing about the way she looked. It was not True's fault that the Cathar had inattentively reacted by grabbing up a handful of sand, which had presumable blown in from the open door, and throwing it into the face of the Gomorrean leader. The only successful person that the scoundrel was able to meet was a stubborn twi'lek by the name of Komad, who briefly told her about how he only liked to hunt alone.

While leaving the Hunting Lodge, Jolee chuckled under his breath, scratching deliberately at the back of his head. True paused, watching Bastila attempt to calm Juhani down, and then turned towards the old man.

Jolee stopped his chuckling immediately - probably sensing her inquiring stare - and peered intermittently at her, until becoming overwhelmed with annoyance under her gaze. "Got something on your mind?"

True shrugged lightly, enjoying the feel of him become even more aggravated with her stubbornness. Her keen curiosity eventually took over. "Why did you decide to travel with me?"

Jolee squinted his eyes thoughtfully. "Well, you got yourself a fast little ship, and it has been so long since I have entered a vessel that I nearly forgot what engines sound like!"

True snorted softly, and tried to cover it up with a fake sneeze. He glared at her. "What?"

"Nothing it just… seems like it wouldn't be that hard for you to forget what an engine sounds like. I doubt you even remember what you had for breakfast, old man." Said True. She glanced momentarily over at Bastila, who was staring back at her with a helpless look upon her face as Juhani blew steam at the Jedi, while throwing around wild and crazy hand motions. She subdued from laughing and turned back to Jolee. "Seriously, though. Why?"

"I'm old, damn it! I can be enigmatic if I want to be!"

"Try _ancient_."

Jolee gave her a look of looks, and sighed with immense effort, ringing his hands around within one another. "Look, I simply see a destiny in you that I just have to watch for myself. You remind me of an old friend of mine, in fact. Andor Vex, was his name."

True was momentarily taken aback that she reminded him of a _friend_ he once had. She was shocked he had ever had any friends at all, let alone any friends like herself. Feeling her sour attitude raid, she smiled sweetly and bowed her head slightly forward as if to tell him a secret. "Did you annoy this man endlessly, too?"

Absolutely refusing to respond to that, the old man continued on with his story. "Where was I? Oh yes, Andor. Well, Andor was extremely strong in the Force, much like you. He had a great destiny written all over him, and I wanted to see where life took him as well. This was when I was a young lad, however…"

"Oh, so we are talking about ninety-five years ago, right?"

"I'm trying to be nice to you, child! Don't push my patience!"

"Sorry, sorry."

"Anyway, he was extremely strong in the Force, and extremely over confident in his destiny. It led to his downfall."

Waiting until she was absolutely positive he was finished, avoiding another oration at any and all costs, True finally spoke with dissatisfaction. "Is there supposed to be some hidden meaning in this?"

Jolee shuffled his feet about, and walked quickly past her. "That depends, are you overconfident?"

True glared after him feeling that he had just wasted a pointless story on the entirely wrong person. Bastila was the overconfident one, not her. If anyone had a good downfall about them, it was Bastila. Following the old man with a steady tread, True looked past him onto Bastila and Juhani, who had both stopped dead in their tracks, staring with wide-eyes at something around the corner. Cautiously putting her hand onto her lightsaber, True eased quickly forward, peering around the wall. It was at that moment that she was painfully reminded that no matter where they went, someone just _had_ to try and kill them.

"Lord Malak was not pleased you had escaped Taris alive! He has promised a hefty reward to anyone who can destroy you." Said the sith, standing before her with the black hood and the equally dark veil before his mouth. It was difficult to tell if him and his companions were smirking, since they were speaking through a cloth, but True assumed she knew the general jest of what they were after.

Pulling her lightsaber from her belt, she raised both eyebrows in challenge and chuckled darkly. "And why do you think no one has the reward, yet?"

Five red lightsabers ignited in unison, and three of the sith immediately flipped through the air and started slashing viciously at the group. The crowds around them screamed and ran, seeking refuge in the Cantina and Swoop Registration Office. Green, Yellow, Red, and Purple sparks flew through the air as the battle blazed on. The fancy and impressive footwork of the sith was notable, and their light feet left fascinating marks along the sand.

True, with her arm finally feeling up to the challenge, sliced furiously at a sith, bringing her saber down on his head, and snatching the red lightsaber from his hand as he fell to the ground. Now, dancing and spinning about, she helped Juhani take down the last sith, stabbing him directly in the pelvic area, and switching both lightsabers off. The group breathed heavily, and Jolee doubling over against a wall to steady himself. The small crowd that had disappeared before the battle slowly congregated back from their hiding places, murmuring and whispering with utter shock as they gazed upon the wreckage.

True stared down at the bodies, and shoved the yellow and red lightsabers back into her belt while stepping idly around the bodies. When she found the dead sith body that seemed to be the least bloody, due to Canderous shooting him square in the head, she kneeled over and proceeded to undress him. The crowd gawked with confusion at her actions, and started to resume their business, hurrying quickly away – afraid to ask what in the name of the Force she was planning to do with a naked sith.

"What are you doing!?" Canderous finally said, half yelling at her, wishing she would stop.

True paused to look up at him. "I'm not going to walk around with these ripped robes any longer."

True waited for the next response. She waited, and waited, and waited - but it never came. The scoundrel grinned lecherously to herself, though her auburn hair that hung like a veil around her head permitted no one to see it. Bastila, for once in her life, had said nothing. Instead she watched True with a feeling that had been long avoided by the Jedi…

The black robes fit nicely about True's body, hanging on her curves very loosely. As she examined herself in the reflector of the bathroom, she twirled around, watching the robe whip extravagantly behind her. Pausing to stare blankly at her reflection, she sighed miserably. Things were so different then how they used to be. She used to live such a wonderfully peaceful life – and now she was attacked everywhere she went. Absent-mindedly, True reached her hands back behind her head, and she clasped onto the dark hood. The fabric fell loosely around her face, shielding her eyes from the glaring light above her head. _That's more like it._

Juhani gasped as True emerged from the bathroom, walking briskly up to the group. Jolee told her she looked nice, and that was about the end of it. No one mentioned anything again – though the Cathar sent her disapproving… or perhaps envious… glares from behind for the remainder of the day.

--

The Tatooine sun's were settling quickly behind the distant sand-covered mountains, and the group's desperate search was coming to a steady halt for the day. The planet failed to become anymore cool under the dark blanket of the sky, and all of their bodies were growing weak and exhausted. The Force could not heal any case like this, and so with no more patients for repetitive asking around, Canderous angrily dropped his hands to his sides and announced he was going back to the ship. One by one, the group panned out. First Juhani followed after him, then Jolee, and soon it was just Bastila and True, standing underneath the dark sky of Tatooine.

The glimmering lights around the town did strange things to Bastila's eyes, and cast in-depth shadows across her face. True sighed with impatience as she glanced about her, watching the buildings slowly close down for the evening – except for the cantina – and the people disappeared from the town. There was no use being out here any longer. They had woefully established that the only way they would get out into the Dune Sea, where the Star Map no doubt had to be, was to get a hunting license. The gate guard was much too vigilant to undergo any amount of their Force persuasion, try as they might to sway him in their favor. Kicking up a useless pile of sand, True exhaled with frustration, and leaned her back against a rough yellow wall in defeat. The aftermath of her back hitting the wall caused the black hood to slip lightly off of the top of her head. The scoundrel closed her eyes and started to inhale and exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale…

Bastila stared curiously upon her with lengthy admiration. "Y'know, I have been trying to come up with the best way to say this for some time, but I suppose I should just come out and say it."

True cracked an eye open, and stared blandly upon the Jedi's pallid face. _Here it comes. The 'you are falling to the Dark Side' banter._

Bastila's eyes were cast downward, watching intently as her hands fidgeted for a moment or two, and then she slowly eased her head back up. "The truth is, I have begun to depend on you. Not only for this mission, but for myself as well. I am… I am glad you are with us."

True's head snapped forward, her eyes wide with shock. Bastila noticed this and flinched slightly, wondering if she had said something terribly misleading. "I – er …" The scoundrel fumbled about for a moment trying to decipher how to react. Pushing herself gently away from the wall, she stared Bastila straight on in the face. "Are you _feeling_ alright?"

"Yes," Bastila stammered, momentarily offended, "I apologize for being short and demanding of you. I realize perhaps I was being unfair."

"Perhaps?" True chuckled, overstressing the matter.

"I am trying my best! You are not making this easy for me, you know?" Bastila shot back, throwing an aggravated hand into the air for emphasis.

"And when have you _ever _made things easy for me?" True challenged, raising both eyebrows to induce something or other.

Bastila pointed lamely at the scoundrels shoulder.

True huffed. "Besides then."

"Well, like I said, I suppose I have been difficult with you. I apologize. This mission is much too important to let a simple misunderstanding get in the way."

"Misunderstanding? I have misunderstood nothing! You are the one who thought this was her big audition for 'master hood'."

Bastila stared at her with heavy indignation. "I resent that."

"Good. Resent yourself to Kashyyyk and back, for all I care."

"I see." Bastila huffed, trying to cope with her inner Jedi ways. Finally leveling her head, she started up again. "Is there nothing I can do to make it up to you? I would much rather we were friends."

The scoundrel tried to angle the situation in every direction she could. She still didn't trust Bastila, and was frequently pestered by the overlapping feeling that she had once done great harm to her – but perhaps it was worth a try, for the sake of the mission. True walked slowly past her, feeling her purple eyes watch her with unmitigated worries. _Perhaps I have been too harsh, too._

The scoundrel paused in her ascend, and then turned back, motioning for the Jedi to follow.

"Come. We should get back to the Ebon Hawk, friend. We need rest."

--

True sat at the foot of the bed with her back to the door. The scoundrels eyes stared blankly at the wall before her, mind deep in restless thought. She desperately attempted to review the vision, see the Star Map, and figure out where it was exactly… but to no avail. Try as she might the Force was still too new to her, and she could not bend and shape it to do as her will.

Closing her eyes gently, and tucking her legs up underneath her body, she appeased all of her thoughts – or at least, that was the plan. Regrettably, however, all she could see before her eyes was an image of Jolee asking her if she felt that she was 'overconfident'. The old man's banters seemed to be non-ponderous at the time, but now she couldn't help but recollect on it every time she tried to quiet her mind. It must mean something. There must be a sign somewhere in it…

Cocking her head to the side and biting down on her tongue, she tried to ward off the old man's face with pain. Which, of course, didn't work. She attempted replacing his face with someone else's – anyone else's – but that ceased to work either. Finally, as a last resort, she bashed her head against the wall a few times hoping to jar the graying beard from her sights. Didn't work.

There was a knocking on the wall behind her, and she turned irritably around. _How could I not have sensed someone coming? _

Carth Onasi popped his head slowly around the corner, smiling down upon her in a conciliatory matter. "So, make any headway today?"

True sighed and shook her head regrettably, turning fully around to face him. She attempted to stifle the look of setback across her face. "No. Not really."

"Well," He said softly, stepping into the room, "You'll figure it out." _I know you will._

_I hope you're right. _She bowed her head audaciously, and stood up with him, stretching her arms above her body. The heavy black sleeves fell down her forearms as she reached upward, and her bare skin longed for the feel of the cool air. Taking a staggering step forward, she finally ceased her stretch, and searched the pilot's face. He looked troubled, or as if his mind was elsewhere, pining away on matters that had nothing to do with their current mission. "Why do you want revenge on Saul so badly?"

Carth, of whom was glancing past her for something that had caught his eye in the corner, jolted his gaze back onto the scoundrel with a baffled expression. "I already told you. He betrayed us all."

True raised her hands innocently in the air and offered him a smile. "It just seems more personal then that, is all."

Carth looked her over with conspicuous prominence. He tried to dissipate his thoughts wisely, but there were so many horrible memories rushing at him full-throttle that it aggrieved him greatly. "Well there… there is more to it," he paused, sorting through the immoderation of his retentions. "But I'm sure you don't want to hear about it."

"I asked, did I not?" True queried him carefully.

"I just don't like to talk about it, that's all. But…" He stared at her, recognizing her sympathy and interest. "I feel different with you. So, here goes. I told you about my home world, Telos. Four years ago, Saul completely destroyed the planet after it refused to surrender to him. Millions died."

Carth paused, gulping down the fear of pouring his dearest memories out to her. For years the space pilot had done nothing but lock the memories in a safe hold in the back of his mind, throwing away the key and hoping to never bring them out again. But here he was, and there _she_ was – handing him the key. "I had… a wife and son on Telos. I thought they would be safe there. I _hoped_ they would be safe there." Tears stung the edges of his eyes, threatening to shimmer and gleam down his face in pathetic streams of nothingness. Crying had done absolutely nothing for Carth Onasi; he had discovered that a very long time ago. "I remember holding my wife in my arms. Screaming for help… but, they didn't come in time. Sometimes I can still feel her limp body in my hands, and I can hear the last whispers of her voice…"

True listened intently, seizing the chance to forget about the mission for a little while and focus upon something less horrible. But, as he continued on, the mission started to pale in comparison to his story. The scoundrel watched the pilot hold his arms out miserably before him inattentively, his dark hazel eyes staring down into them as if someone was there. After a moment of soft hesitation, he finally stiffened his shoulders and dropped his arms to his sides, appearing to be over the sympathetic moment in a flash. "I miss them, but I can't bring them back. Hunting Saul is all I have left."

True's voice was stuck in her throat. She had never imagined Carth Onasi, the big tough pilot who had such a good spirit about him, had lost so much. She instantly regretted every crude little comment she had ever showered him with, and felt a pang of guilt. _How could I not know all of this, and be with him for so long? _"You know killing Saul won't bring them back…"

"I know. And I know it won't make me happy again, either. But I have to do it. For them." The pilot cleared his throat quickly, and shook his shoulders from side to side. He gave the scoundrel a short but sweet smile. There was an awkward thickness in the air, and it was the last thing he had wanted to occur. "Well, that's the story. For what it's worth. Thanks for listening, I feel – "

Before True had any conscious explanation for what she was doing, the scoundrel moved quickly forward, closing the gap between them in a span of four steps, and wrapped her arms tightly around his torso while leaning into his chest. Her eyes were shut tightly and her heart was beating furiously, fearing how he may react. _Oh, what am I doing??_

Silence.

Slowly, the Jedi felt the man's arms wrap warmly around her shoulders in a tight embrace, hugging her close to his body. She could hear his heart beat rapidly against her ear, and it made her smile unpretentiously.

"Better." He finally finished, resting his chin lightly atop her head.

The world stopped, but they still existed – though she could not feel or sense it.

_The Star Map faded quickly from view. Flying backwards, backwards, backwards… the map grew farther away, but the surroundings became more and more clear. A cave. A cave in the Sand. The remains of bodies. A giant krayt dragon, snapping viciously upon her… sand people… _

True felt as if she had been thrown back into her body after being shaken to shambles by the Force, and she stumbled forward as she lost her footing; head bursting with immense pain from the vision. Carth, still holding the scoundrel gently in his arms, caught her unexpected tremor. "True… True are you alright? _True_!"

"I – I'm fine. I just… you." She looked up at Carth through narrowed eyes as she winced through the pain. When it finally started to transcend, she took a step back from the pilot and pressed gently against her temples.

"What about me?" Asked Carth.

"You helped me see the Star Map. I had been trying to… oh, never mind." She said snappishly, turning away from him and walking towards the bed. "I saw a cave, and a – a krayt dragon. And sand people. We need to talk to the sand people tomorrow… we _must_ find a way to get into the Dune Sea…" She rambled on, carelessly overlooking the slightly confused and hurt expression on the pilot's handsome face.

"I'll go with you tomorrow. I'll help."

"Shouldn't you stay here with the ship?" True inquired; now rubbing her palms against her temple as she sat on the edge of the bed.

"If you _insist_…"

And with that, Carth turned quickly around, and left her alone to the room.

True felt her heart sink, deep, deep, deeper… she couldn't go after him now. He was gone. He had just entrusted and shared with her something very dear and sufferable to him, and she had brushed it away in one sweep of selfishness. For once in her life, True Baill understood why Bastila Shan was always so bitter. The Force was in control of her. It drove her to actions, and shaped her into what she was today. The scoundrel grimaced at the thought of it - she didn't want to end up like that. She didn't want to live her life relying on the Force as a guide, being _used_ by the Force to get things done. She felt like a puppet in a show. A puppet that had just been forced to slap her best friend in the face, commanded by the hand up her bottom that moved her around the stage. _I have to go talk to him…_

Rising from the bed, True rushed for the door, feeling overwhelmed by the dizziness.

"Where are you going?"

Shocked to hear the familiar voice coming from _behind_ her, True twisted about on her heel and stared into the cat eyes of the Cathar as she sat in the corner of the room, arms resting lightly across her knees, staring through the scoundrel as if she was transparent paper.

"How long have you been there?" True asked dumbly, afraid she already knew the answer. Her and Carth would have noticed if someone had entered, so she had to have been sitting there the entire time… _but how…_

"I'm rather stealthy." The Cathar hummed in reply to her thought.

True glared vibroswords upon Juhani as she eased herself into a standing position. "Stay _out_ of my mind."

Juhani smiled lightly. True couldn't decipher if it was a friendly smile, or a smile that mocked her every word. Either way, she didn't like it, nor did she particularly like Juhani for that matter.

"I would be wary of my feelings, if I were you, Padawan." The Cathar said matter-of-factly.

"How so?"

"Well," Juhani said slowly, walking out from her corner and mounting quickly upon True's space. "Relationships are fraught with powerful emotions. Anger and hatred are the worst."

True eyed the Cathar warily as she put a hand on the scoundrels shoulder, gently running her fingernails across her neckline as she walked in circles around her, speaking with wide eyes and fierce, eerie tones that sat just above a whisper. True immediately regretted putting her lightsabers away in her bag…

"However," The Cathar continued, "Love can also lead to folly." She nipped at True's ear, not daring to catch it in her mouth, but reaching _just_ close enough to give the scoundrel a scare. True had had enough of that nonsense, and swatted a hand warningly in Juhani's face.

The cat woman chuckled lightly and backed to arm's length in front of the scoundrel. "I do not have any of those things to worry about." _Except perhaps anger, towards you._

Juhani bit her lower lip, sharp cat-like teeth binding down upon her pale skin. "But, I see the way you look at Carth…"

True laughed. Loud. "You can't possibly think…. I don't…. ok, that's it, get out."

Juhani raised an eyebrow at the scoundrel's impertinence as she pointed towards the door. "We share this room."

"_Fine_. Then I'll leave." And with that, she made her way down the hall, in search for the farthest room opposite the Cathar.

Juhani's voice followed in her wake as the women leaned outside of the door, hollering as softly as possible after the speeding Jedi. "You saved my life, True! I am only trying to save you, from yourself."

True was already way past ignoring her, however, mulling over thoughts about how she could never ever _possibly_ have any of the feelings that the Cathar had clearly misinterpreted. _I do not – could not – love Carth…_

--

Six figures wandered slowly over the blighted land. Bits of it were dullish yellow, bits of it were dullish tan, and the rest of it was rather less interesting to look at. It was like a dried-out marsh, barren of all vegetation and covered with a layer of sand about ten feet thick. It was very hot. It was the Dune Sea.

How the group had finally managed to leave Anchorhead was actually a rather interesting story. A Czerka woman, oddly enough, had asked them to remove a particularly pesky tribe of Sand People. The task would not be easy – but at least it would get them a legible hunting license for smooth access to their longing for the destination beyond the high-risen putrid colored walls. Besides, business was business, and if True was going to need to find Sand People to figure out the location to her Star Map, then she might as well destroy them all too.

Carth Onasi felt a mounting irritation. For some reason, be known to him, True had very quietly requested that he come along _instead_ of Juhani. The pilot, having suggested it to begin with, was easily swayed to do so. But now he just regretted it, and even having flown here, wasting another horribly embarrassing landing on this waste of a planet. Of all of the planets in all of the star system in all of the Galaxy – many wild and exotic, seething life – the Star Maps just had to turn up in a place like this. The pilot stooped down and picked up a hot clod of sand, but there was nothing underneath it worth crossing thousands of light-years to search through. As he stared into his hands, watching the warm sand slip away through the cracks of his fingers, his ears twitched forward to the sound of medal springing together. Robotic legs walked stiffly around in the corner of his vison.

Carth's eyes darted narrowly towards the giant droid by the label of HK-47 that True had purchased on the whim of a Jawa. Iziz, the name of the small rat-descended creature, squeaked and squawked something or other about "Captured friends" and "need something to communicated with people of Sand". After debating how on earth they were going to communicate with the Tusken Raiders, Canderous had come up with the elusive plan to search for a droid. Hence their most recent accomplice. None of the group had foreseen that HK-47 being not only a communicating droid (with over 500 different languages programmed into his mind), but that he was also a barbacious slaughtering machine. The hot wind stung Carth's eyes and ears, and the stale thin air clasped his throat. However, the thing that stung the most was his mind.

The droid seemed to perceive the pilot's glares, and snapped his head downward with an echoing click. "Query: This organic meatbag keeps looking untrustingly upon me. Can I shoot him, master?"

Carth, alarmed at the request, stood up in a hurry and shot his hand to the blaster on his hip. Fingers tapping lightly on the handle, he quickly retracted with pain. The hot sun's rays made the metal of the weapon sizzle and boil like fire.

True whipped around in a flash and stared up at the tall rustic-colored droid that was now raising its blasters to the level of the pilot's face. Carth's eyes widened in shock. "No! No… no you may not shoot him."

"Query: Can I shoot him in the leg, master?"

"No. I said no. Means no." True replied, grabbing lamely at his metal arm and shoving it back to his side. HK stared through tiny black holes with dejection. Carth breathed again.

"Explanation: I do not appreciate that your meatbag companions continue to goad my meek existence, master."

"Meek?" True interred, laughing slightly. "There is nothing meek about you. You haven't even said anything in the range of placid since I purchased you, in fact."

"Statement: I simply am forewarning you, master. If this continues to happen, there will be carnage."

True juggled the possibilities of the droid having a minor glitch or malfunction to his personality core. Scrunching her nose and distorting her face in thought, the scoundrel grappled the options. "Your previous owner must have been extremely violent."

"Commentary: I do not know, master. My memory core was swiped continually until I recalled nothing of my former owner."

True found that extremely hard to believe. How in the midst of all of the droid's 'memory swiping' did he still manage to have an extremely violent personality? Shaking her head submissively, the scoundrel walked slowly ahead of the droid, staring down at her long shadow that danced in the grooves of the sand. The droid followed quickly after her.

"Query: Master? What is it exactly that you are searching for?"

True removed the sith lightsaber from her belt and swung it playfully about her hands as the group ascended forward towards the Northern side of the Dune Sea. Watching the hilt of the weapon twirl from hand to hand, she looked over her shoulder at the droid with a gratifying sneer. "Star Maps – and you can stop calling me master, now."

"Query: Can I? I was under the assumption that organic meatbags, such as yourself, enjoyed such forms of address." HK droned on, jittering his head back and forth in examination for – more then less likely – something to shoot.

"Did you just call me a _meatbag_?"

"Retraction: Did I say that out loud? I apologize, master. Though you are a meatbag, I suppose I should not address you as such."

"You just called me one _again_." The scoundrel pointed out, emitting the sense of annoyance.

"Explanation: It's just that you have all of these squishy parts, and all that water…" The droid halted its verbal rampage, and twitched its eye sockets with neural disruptions. "Interrupting Query: Do you have any idea as to where this Map is, master?"

"Sort of," said True in plausible response. "I had a vision. But it's not helping much."

"Commentary: I'm sorry, master. Shall we find something to kill to cheer you up?"

Bastila, who walked a few yards off to True's left, glanced inquiringly over to the pair. The droid chattered on, pleasantly basking in the wake of the scoundrel's presence. She seemed to always have that effect on people, and now droid's too. They trusted her. They flocked to her. They felt powerful when in her calm inhabitance – and with good reason. Rubbing her hand absent-mindedly across her forearm, Bastila sighed heavily. A stray lock of dark hair swung before her eyes, and she bat at it with irritation. Her hair was smoldering to pieces in this heat, as well as the rest of her body.

Jolee, who was searching for the same 'cave' that the rest of them were, mounted slowly upon Bastila's stance. Wiping a gleam of sweat from the corner of his dark eyes, the old man choked at the thin air. His gaze cast downward in the same direction of the scoundrel. "Seems she hasn't lost her touch."

Bastlia was shocked to hear a voice through the dense atmosphere, and snapped her eyes to the man with strong premise. "Perhaps the droid has an overly-attached attitude."

Jolee raised an eyebrow at Bastila. "I'm not sure what _you're _bantering on about – but I was referring to you."

"Me?"

"Yes, you! Who else would I be talking to… him?" Jolee looked wildly about, and gestured angrily towards Carth, who was almost fifty yards away from them.

"I haven't lost my touch?" Bastila stammered, deciphering if she should be offended or not.

"I may be old, child, but I can still sense things. I know what goes on in your mind."

Bastila shifted uncomfortable, goring her eyes onto the old man's face. Thwarting the conversation from heading steadily into the direction she was not fully prepared to discuss, the Jedi continued onto a different topic. "Why did you leave the order, Jolee?"

"Ah, here we go," the old man retorted, flinging his hands helplessly in the air and storming around in circles. Bastila watched him mumble to himself during his little episode for a few moments until the old he finally stopped, turning towards her. "Let's just say I don't agree with your Dark and Light ways of thinking. It matters not if I attain to the Jedi or Sith terms… they are two of the same with different titles."

Bastila stared upon him with shock. How could he possibly think that? The sith were animals who killed mercilessly upon their victims, grueling over nothing but power and control. They were addicted to the Force and allowed it to live through them in the most negative of ways. The Jedi, on the other hand, were only believers that no one deserved the punishment of death. They were peacemakers, driven solely on the purpose of protecting others. Every word that Jolee emitted completely counter-acted everything upon which the Jedi was taught to believe. She grimaced as she relayed his words in her mind. Jolee Bindo was once an active member of the Jedi Council. Why would his opinions shift so utterly in the opposite direction? A thought occurred in Bastila's mind. She scowled at the old man with redemption.

"The… the Jedi do what is right! The Sith do nothing but destruct!"

Jolee grumbled at her and shook his head from side to side. "Destruct? Puh! They only destruct what is in their way of getting to the Jedi – who, in turn, provoke them." The old man put his hands behind his back neatly and marched before her in a way he had done with young Jedi Padawan's long ago… "The Jedi may not harm people physically, but they take things from them. Do you find that what happened to Revan was fair?"

"Malak was the one who turned on Revan…"

"I'm not talking about the attack! I'm talking about afterwards. The Jedi _stole_ from Revan what can never be returned. Death is a much more rewarding punishment then stealing one's entire life away, while permitting them to live as a ghost."

Bastila gawked at the elder man with anger towards his impertinence. He was vigilant with his words, yes, but they were so horribly twisted. He was speaking words that lead heavily to the Dark Side, and thinking in matters that made little to no sense. The Jedi were right and the Sith were wrong. Period.

"Both the Sith and the Jedi believe they are doing what is correct. Right and wrong is a matter of opinion, Bastila."

Bastila was relieved when a second or so later she caught plain sight of Canderous standing on top of the ridge of the ground and waving to them to come and join him. He seemed to be excited, but they couldn't clearly hear what he was saying because of the thinnish atmosphere and the musky wind. As the three Jedi, two war hero's, and the droid approached the ridge of higher ground, they were overcome with the pleasant reality that they were _finally_ close to their destination. The group stared down upon a colossal sized span of huts, where Sand People mulled busily about.

--

Sand People were very strange creatures. They walked about the boiling planet underneath essential mounts of clothing, and wore what appeared to be gas masks around the maw of their face. Inside of most of their giant huts were many prisoners. While the group was being dragged throughout the village, they succeeded to find a group of Jawa's being lecherously poked at with gaffi sticks, but were in no shape to rescue them now. Now, True thought angrily, they were captured _themselves_ – being mercilessly detained by eight angry Sand People, who were leading the group towards the chieftain's hut. Oh yes, and they were all stripped down to their underwear, it might be added…

The original plan was set by True. She had suggested that they sneak down to the village and silently slay a few random Sand People, then take their clothing and sneak past the guards and the giant supplies of turret guns. But, of course, her companions all absolutely refused to strap on ten pounds of revoltingly vile clothing that was possibly drenched with blood on the inside. No, no, they just simply wouldn't have any part of that. Instead, they preferred to rely on their undying faith in HK and his persuasion skills.

So, now, they were all half naked and without weaponry. _Should have stuck with my plan…_

When finally reaching the chieftain, True was released by the arms, and thrown forward onto her knees with an intense suddenness. The scoundrel grunted in pain as she collided with the surprisingly hard ground. Carth wrung his arms desperately against his holder in an attempt to break away, but was instead smacked across the face with gaffi stick. Bastila flinched as a small gash on the pilot's face started to seep with crimson blood. This was far more then they had bargained for.

The chieftain brayed loudly at the scoundrel with scrutiny. Though she couldn't understand what he was saying, his tone was obvious. He hated all outsiders.

Slowly standing up from the thick sandy ground, True clapped her hands together in repetition, freeing them of the grains that clung to her sweaty palms. She glanced quickly at HK-47, who looked utterly prepared to go on a mad smacking rampage.

"Translation: the chieftain wants to know why he should allow us to survive this encounter, master."

"Tell him we have come for a peaceful solution."

HK turned to the chieftan and spoke in the untranslatable voice. "Translation: He says he has no reason to believe you. Your kind has tainted this land with machines and uncaring ignorant feet."

_Great, so I have to suffer because the Czerka are all morons. _True shifted her feet, and folded her arms across her half-naked body. When nothing was said, the chieftain grumbled a few more untranslatable words, while throwing his arms angrily about in the air. "Translation: He requires proof of good faith. We must make a contribution to him and his people that shows we are not a threat." HK paused momentarily, and narrowed his voice wickedly. "Query: If I launch at his body and take him down, will you proceed to kick him in the face, master?"

"Ask him if he knows anything about a Star Map." True said quickly over the droid, ignoring his violent attempt at a solution.

There was a long moment in which the chieftain looked warily around him in deep thought. He seemed to be greatly disturbed by the question, as did the Sand People around him. Slowly he responded, looking keenly upon the scoundrel with a much less-vicious tone of voice. "Translation: Yes. But he says that until you bring him moisture vaporators, so that him and his people can leave this area, he will not tell you where it is."

The group was escorted much more kindly back throughout the village to a small hut that contained all of their clothing and weaponry. They had agreed to get the vaporators for the chieftain, but only under the promise that when they returned, he would tell them all that he knew about the Star Map. He had agreed, HK translated, but was in strong belief that they were not coming back. Also, as soon as they were to leave the Sand People Territory they were not to be permitted entry again until returning with the vaporators, and were not allowed to leave with any of the prisoners.

True tugged the black sith robes quickly over her head, and had never been so relieved in her life to be so over-heated. She didn't understand the ways of these Sand People, running around underneath all of those layers, but it seemed to have no affect on them what so ever. Pulling her hair back from her face, she looked up to see topless Jolee fumbling through the crates of clothing, searching around for his robes. Subsiding the urge to hurl at the sight of a half-naked old man, she turned quickly about to stare at Carth. _Now that is__ much__ nicer…_

Carth's hazel eyes rolled softly up to her, as he pulled his heavy combat boot up and over his left ankle. A smile quirked on the corner of his lips as he noticed the scoundrels eyes wander in surprise over his shirtless torso, taking in the defined ripples of his arms, chest, and stomach. _What had she expected? Fat?_ Snatching his shirt out from a separate crate from the one that Jolee was still bitterly searching through, he stared upon her pretty little face with patience. "Like what you see there, beautiful?" He teased.

True's face faded to crimson, and her eyes immediately shot up to his face. "I – er…" she fumbled lamely about for words, and finally settled for changing the subject. She stared at the line of blood running down from his splintered cheekbone, and sucked in the planet's heavy air. "Are you alright?"

"Oh, yeah." Carth said shortly, rubbing the back of his wrist across the cut. "You?"

True gnawed on the inside of her cheek and shrugged, moving towards the pile of their weapons and withdrawing her two lightsabers. She shoved them with anal perception into her belt, and wet her dry lips. Carth watched her contently the entire time.

"Are you sure that we need to do all of this? I mean, we could just go find the Star Map on our own…" said Carth.

True shook her head slowly and cast her eyes back onto the pilot – slightly dismayed that he was adorning his shirt and yellow jacket again. "The map is on their territory, and we're not allowed back until we find some moisture vaporators."

Carth raised both of his eyebrows in shock. "We could still search around anyway."

"And when they charge angrily at us, telling us we're not allowed?"

"Kill them."

True stared at him in shock to the immediate response. She had expected something more around the lines of, "Leave, and then try to come back later on more stealthily" or, "Tell them sorry" or even, "Well, we could throw Canderous at them and run away". But she had not expected that. The scoundrel chuckled lightly. "You're starting to sound like HK-47."

Carth chuckled along with her, and nodded. "Alright, well. I'll follow you, whatever you choose." And with that, he turned away from the scoundrel, and left through the flannel opening of the hut. True's eyes followed steadily after him until he was completely out of clear sight. Sighing softly, she turned her attention over to HK, who was eerily watching her with great intent. She stared at him blankly.

"Commentary: That man," he nodded unexpectedly, "is one of the least benightedly unintelligent organic life forms it has been my profound lack of pleasure not to be able to avoid meeting."

True took a moment or two to find her way through this labyrinthine string of negatives and emerged at the other end with surprise.

"Carth?" She said. "He's just a pilot. Cute, yeah, but sometimes temperamental. You know how it is with men. Or perhaps you don't. I assume you don't… but if you do I don't want to hear about it."

--

After long and hard persuasion on getting a Czeka Corporate to lower the prices on two very hefty vaporators, True finally returned to the Sand People Enclave.

The chieftain, upon her entry, seemed utterly shocked to see her and her three companions. After handing him the vaporators, surprised to be rewarded with his personal gaffi stick, True turned to face the HK unit. "Ask him where the Star Map is."

The droid gave her a sullen look, saddened by the lack of killing that had taken place. Unintelligible muttering. A reply. "Translation: You can find what you seek in the Eastern Dune Sea. He will give you a map so you can find your way."

The Eastern Dune Sea looked almost identical to the rest of Tatooine. If it weren't for the small poles with little flashing lights as barriers, True would have become sullenly lost, and never known where the area started or ended. When they finally reached the infamous cave that the two bonded Jedi had seen in their visions, it became fairly obvious that reaching the Star Map would be rather difficult. As they ventured forth across the vast span of ridged sand, Bastila, Jolee, and HK-47 all paused in great shock. At first, when True had insisted there was a giant krayt dragon inside of the cave, they hadn't believed her. Now, with horror and very little reconnaissance, it was rather obvious she had been correct.

Eyeing them each in turn, the scoundrel nodded with a mournful frown. Bastila looked very ashen and hopeless. Jolee scratched the back of his head thoughtfully, but stared at the beast with great defiance. HK-47 snatched his weapon up tightly, and aimed it in the direction of the creature.

"Exclamation: Charge!"

True smacked him square in the chest.

The scoundrel instantly regretted her actions as her hand recoiled in pain against the sizzling heat of the metal, and the fact that she had just smacked – well – metal. There was a long echo; similar to the sound that the Ebon Hawk would make whenever a bird flew cluelessly into the side of it. As they stood at the ridge before the giant cave, they became aware that it seemed to be placed in the center of a circular crater – a crater about a hundred and fifty yards wide. Round the center of the crater stood two men, animatedly discussing something, then turning as the sound of True smacking the metal rippled pathetically among their ears.

The dragon seemed to be sleeping towards the back of the cave, presumably where the Star Map was located, curled into a giant ball. It's spine, the scoundrel noted as she walked slowly forward, was lined with sharp spikes identical to giant kenrath teeth. The two men standing before the cave, at a safe enough distance to where the dragon seemingly could not hear or smell them, stared expectantly upon the four as they approached. When the newcomers said nothing, the shorter man turned in frustration to his companion.

"I'm tired of waiting, Komad. This dragon of yours doesn't even look that big. I'm going in!"

It didn't take a genius to realize that was immediately a misjudged plan. Gray eyes staring after the man, afraid to blink, True watched him run loudly across the sand and enter the cave. In unison to the man's right foot stepping into the long shadows of the cave, a very grave growl emitted from the entrance, and he screamed like a woman. True shivered involuntarily and shifted closer to Bastila. The quick silence unsettled her.

Staring momentarily with a large despair of sorrow, the twi'lek hunter (that True had met the day before back in the Cantina) shrugged his shoulders and turned towards the group with a wide smile and outstretched arms. It was very businesslike, and very strange, given the circumstances that had just taken place. His long gold and green tentacles glistened in the light, and he shook them about welcomingly.

"Ah, hello. I had a feeling I might run into you again, for you are a hunter much like myself."

True, still recovering from her tremors of shock, stared wide-eyed back at the twi'lek – but the expression didn't slow him down one bit.

"I have tracked a rare beast to its lair," the twi'lek continued, "A krayt dragon, much larger then the one my father had failed to kill."

"How did you make it past the Sand People, Komad?"

"Well…" the twi'lek said slowly, dropping his smile timidly. "I told them I would get rid of the krayt dragon that had wandered far from its home – which has truth to it! But, I am not mainly here to get rid of the dragon, but simply to uncover what it guards. But I cannot do it alone, human. Will you help me?"

Realizing with reluctance that she had no other options, True bowed her head gently forward. "What can I do?"

"Exclamation: Attack!" HK-47 tried again, lifting his blaster and attempting to walk forward, but True threw her arm out and blocked him, shaking her head back and forth scornfully.

Komad's eyes flicked to the droid and he laughed easily. "You can not simply attack a krayt dragon of this size. We will need to bait it. I have set mines around the base of the cave, for when he comes out."

True eyed him carefully, Jolee mumbled in what the scoundrel liked to refer to as 'elderly disapproval', and Bastila made a funny noise. "Isn't that like _cheating_." She wasn't particularly familiar with the hunting rules (and wasn't sure if there even were any), or what was considered a fair hunt or not, but that certainly felt a bit wrong.

"Well, you know… when dealing with such big creatures, you do what you can." Komad smiled with a toothy grin, brushing her off quickly. "Now, I'll need you to go get some big bait. The dragon is in hibernation right now, so we he will need much persuasion."

"Well, do you have anymore foolish hunters to spare?" True tried.

The twi'lek laughed long and hard, placing his hands on his stomach. "No, but I believe there are some bantha's over there that would do just fine."

"Right. Be back in a minute."

True and company ran hurriedly over to the three giant fuzzy beasts, which stood lamely with a heavy foot, chewing on their tongues. Staring at each huge animal in turn, True started by waiving her arms frantically in front of their faces in an attempt to move them. They didn't budge. She attempted to yelp and holler, and even went as far as to jump up and down. The three bantha's simply blinked at her with their huge eyelids, and shook their heavy horns. Jolee and Bastila chuckled. HK twitched his head around thoughtfully.

"Query: May I shoot at them, master?"

True's eyes rolled to the back of her head. "NO! You may not…" _actually, that might work._

The three bantha ran hurriedly over the ridge of the crater, steadily sloping the steep side towards the cave, stopping short of the seven hidden mines. The ground shook beneath True's feet. It rumpled, and pounded, and quaked as the giant creature lifted itself up from the ground. Staring keenly from a distance, the group watched as the dragon's snout merged slowly into the light of Tatooine's duo sun's.

The dragon was huge, covered in gray and green spikes. His head was the size of a small building, and his body was the span of the entire Ebon Hawk. As he crept slowly forward two mines blew off in his chest as he stepped heavily upon them. He didn't stop. The scoundrel gulped down rising fear… what if it was stronger then the twi'lek had perceived? The dragon took three steps more, shaking off the small pain in his neck. Two more went off around his hind legs, simultaneously to two that blew up in his face. Finally, with one last explosion, which tossed his head back with a painful scream, the dragon fell to the ground in defeat.

Komad leapt with joy. "We've done it!" He hollered, turning his head to True and her companions as they stood at a distance, staring upon the giant fallen creature. "Come!"

"What, towards it?" Said True with severe distaste.

"Yeah," said the twi'lek, "Come on. I've got something to show you."

"We can see it," said Bastila.

"Not that," said Komad, "Something else. Come on."

They all hesitated.

"Come on," insisted Komad, "We'll go in!"

"_In_?" said Jolee in horror.

"Into the cave! Oh… you thought I meant in… no, no!"

With little shudders of disgust they all followed Komad down the incline into the crater, trying very hard to avoid looking at its unfortunate inhabitant, that lay dead with his giant tongue flopped limply about his blood-spilled head. As they followed him into the cave, the three Jedi's eyes snapped immediately to the Star Map, exchanging looks of distilled pleasure. Komad rushed hurriedly at them from a distant corner, holding two giant pearls in both of his hands.

"Here, one is for you."

True stared down at the pearl and its milky exterior with rising gormandizes. "I really didn't do anything…"

"No, no. Here. I don't need two." And with that, the happy twi'lek walked towards the exit, stepped over his dead used-to-be companion, and disappeared.

True lurched steadily over to the Star Map and watched as the medal arms retracted in the normal routine. The center ball flew steadily upward, emitted millions of long yellow rays, and burst into the blue map of the galaxy. Jolee shuttered.

"Finding this Star Map here in this cave gives me a cold shiver." Said the old man stodgily, "You don't think that krayt dragon made its home here for a mere coincidence, do you?"

"The Star Map is an artifact of the dark side," Bastila said quickly, intervening the old man's rhetorical question. "The dragon may have been drawn here by its power, only to be _enslaved by it_."

Jolee and Bastila exchanged angry looks to one another. True raised an eyebrow.

--

Before entering onto the Ebon Hawk in departure to their next destination, True stopped at the Czerka Office to gain her reward for the gaffi stick. After all, it wasn't like she would be needing it – unless of course she had pesky bugs to swat at, or felt like cutting up Carth's opposite cheek.

Walking quietly into the office, True leaned mellowly against the wall as she waited for the woman who had bestowed upon her the hunting license to finish her banter with another customer.

"No, you will not get any pay for this… this… this _rock_." The woman said haughtily, throwing a strangely shaped dense object at the man's body.

"You are the most princely pain in my back-end, woman! I hope you, and your husband, and your dad, and your son all die in a crazy pod-racing accident!"

With that being clearly – or, not so clearly – stated, the man stormed quickly past True and her companions, steaming with annoyance out the door.

The woman grunted with frustration. True cleared her throat softly. "What do you – oh, er… greetings again." Obvious embarrassment flew freely across her face.

Without words, True withdrew the Chieftain's gaffi stick from her bag, and held it out in front of her with a smirk. The woman walked slowly forward, gawking at it. "You… have removed a great head ache. I think I'll give you a bonus for this."

She handed True a small pouch of credits, taking the gaffi stick in exchange.

A tingling sensation flew over the scoundrels mind. It was overpowering, dark, and caused her eyes to narrow fiercely and intimidating upon the woman. "You want to give me an additional reward."

Bastila's eyes widened increasingly large and her jaw gaped wide. She attempted to intervene with the situation, but Jolee grabbed at her wrist and yanked her back with incredibly shocking force for such an old man.

"And I… wouldn't want you to leave without this additional reward. Yes, of course I wouldn't." The woman said in an entranced monotone, reaching back into her bag and uncovering an even larger pouch full of a bigger sum in additional credits. True bowed her head forward in appreciation, and turned swiftly around on her heel, exiting the office for the final time.

As the glare of the two sun's beamed down upon their eyes, True shielded her face with her left arm, pocketing the goods she had just received with her right. Jolee jogged quickly to her side. "Nicely done in there, kid. Those extra credits may come in handy on our little search. Besides, it's not like Czerka Corp. can't afford it."

"Czerka may be a corrupt organization, but that doesn't give us the right to use the Force for personal gain!" Bastila counter attacked; shooting the old man continually vigorous glares.

True shrugged lightly, cocking her head to side as the three entered the Anchorhead docking bay. "I think I agree with Jolee. What harm could it possibly do?"

Bastila's jaw did continual pushups all the way until they reached the loading ramp of the Ebon Hawk, and proceeded to walk up it. "Well… I… suppose. If _you_ think it doesn't hurt anyone…"

--

The route to Manaan was long and difficult, and the only thing keeping Carth Onasi awake was his racing mind full of anxiety and worry. Once again, he was the last and only person awake, steadily directing the ship through the wide Galaxy on course for a completely water-dwelling planet. The pilot yawned, straining his square jaw tightly outward, and blocked it with a cupped fist in front of his mouth. Stars moved steadily past the window in a blur of long light… rather entrancing really. He yawned again, now regarding the fact that he was utterly and miserably exhausted.

A strange sound emitted from behind him, and he swiveled wildly around in the chair. For a split moment he had thought it might be True – hoped it might be True. But, instead of the beautiful scoundrel standing in the doorway where she usually was, there was nothing there. The sound emitted again, this time down by his foot. Carth stared downward lazily, rather not surprised to see a tiny giant-eyed creature staring expectantly up at him. Gizka, it was called, and it was only one of hundreds that were now scattered about the ship at random. Carth blinked down upon it. True had desperately asked everyone on the ship what she was supposed to do with them all, and everyone had reacted similarly. Mission was about the only one with a different response apposed to, "I dunno". The twi'lek, with no surprise, had insisted that they were all cute and should be kept as pets. Millions and millions of little hopping pets. HK-47 had also come up with a different answer, asking if they could be used as target practice.

Carth slowly reached forward and picked the Gizka up, placing it in his lap. He blinked down upon the creature. It blinked back. He sniffed his nose. It sniffed its nose. He shook his shoulders around in an attempt to wake himself up. It hopped up and did a cute little back flip. The pilot snorted and leaned back in his chair. _What am I doing…?_

"Having fun?"

Carth's eyes drew immediately upward, to where the scoundrel was standing with a more then amused look upon her face. The pilot wished she would have shown up a minute earlier, so that had wouldn't have had to result to such measures. Composing himself quickly, he shoved the Gizka to the floor with a loud thump, and smiled awkwardly. "Yeah. Fun."

True's amused expression faded. She watched and waited for the small animal to hop with urgency out of the room, scrambling passed her legs, and then glanced back up at the pilot. His handsome features were illuminated by the glare of the Star Map, and his silhouette had a certain wonderful-ness about it with the background of the stars easing across the sky. "I'm sorry."

"For?" Said Carth slowly, raising a heavy eyebrow.

True lurched forward and circled around to the side of the pilot's chair, crouched down onto her knees and leaned against the arm rests. Her gray eyes sparkled as the stars flew across the window, billowing in through the thick glass. "Being too careless of your feelings."

Carth gnawed the inside of his cheek with brazen guilt. "Don't be. The mission is far more important then any small bit of my life. You are more focused on the task at hand. That's good."

True shook her head with defiance. "This mission _is_ important, but you are just as…"

"Important?" He cut her off with a sad smile upon his lips. "No. You were right on Tatooine. My problems pale in comparison to the needs of the galaxy."

The scoundrel sighed heavily. She had been afraid he might bring that up again, causing her to regret that she had ever said it. Her eyes caught sight of something glistening at the control panel, and she glanced momentarily over it. A shiny new lever sat where the old now-dislocated prod used to be. "Ah, I see you have fixed our landing problem."

"Oh, yeah, I even…" Carth turned the chair around quickly, forgetting she was leaning on it, and stared towards the button. The scoundrel immediately lost her balance and crumbled the rest of the way to the floor, smacking her head against the wall. He swiveled back around, feeling horribly dumb. _You flaming imbecile! _The pilot pushed himself quickly out of the chair, grabbing hold of both of her elbows. "Are you ok!?"

True chuckled, which quickly emitted into belting-out laughter.

Carth sighed with relief, chuckling slightly himself. Tears formed in True's eyes from laughing so hard, and a strand of hair tumbled down in front of her eyes. The pilot pushed it quickly behind her ear with a smile. "We are quite a graceful pair, aren't we?"

Catching up with her breath, the scoundrel nodded in response, then tilted her head into the palm of his hand with a warm smile. "Best in the galaxy, you and I."

--

**Tada. :)  
Review, review, and review.  
If you want to see more of this fic, then you best write me up a good long response – or at least tell me what you think! Thanks for reading this, guys. **


	5. Manaan pt 1: A Battle Against Despair

**Vampire-Orchid: **I'm glad you enjoyed it… and I'm honored you went through to read the _whole _entire thing in a span of one day! :) I glanced at some of your work too, which is turning out lovely I must say. Thank you for the review – and I hope you like this update.

**Lucifer Yaway: **Oh it's all good. I understand chores. Well, y'know, just trying to keep things humorous like usual. Lol. :) I wish more people would actually read this story and be as enthused about it as you – you're amazing! Hope you enjoy this update as well!

--

**Title: A Knights Tale**

**Rating: PG-13 **

**Chapter Summary: **Manaan. The gorgeous planet of water, with the utopia-enticing Ahto City. Upon first glance, it seems as if nothing could go wrong on such a peaceful planet – but, oh, think again. True and company is greatly disappointed to be tossed about by the cruel destinies of life, as the search for the Star Forge surges restlessly onward.

**Disclaimer: **No one belongs to mwah. Pity, innit? Half of the plot and dialogue are all me, however. Yeehaw.

**Author's Note:** My "goal" here is to finished the last three planets (Manaan, Korriban, Unknown World) in sections of two – excluding the Leviathan and (possibly) the Star Forge, which will probably only be one. At this rate I'm going, that will leave me with a total of at least – including this one – nine more updates, if I also add in my ending of it all. So… you're all stuck with me for quite some time ;)

BTW: This chapter is only a half, and it moves quickly.

**(Manaan pt.1)**

**A Battle Against Despair**

--

"**The penalty for failure is death, Admiral Karath."**

_The world surrounding is dark. The distant sounds are soft and muffled; a machine hums from behind. Hues of dark blue cast off of the triangular dome in the center of a strange cement floor. The three arms drop slowly. Bubbles emerge from the center, as well as the tiny circle. An impressive spring of light shoots the ball into an astounding map. More bubbles. Something huge shuffles in the shadows beyond…_

Bastila Shan groaned melodramatically, and True Baill's eyes jot open in pain. The roof of the small vessel, known as the Ebon Hawk, held nothing of interest to her – though she couldn't shift her eyes elsewhere. Presumably, the Jedi laying a few feet beside her was also awake, but she didn't feel like conversing with her if she was. The scoundrel turned onto her newly healed shoulder, shuffling her weight completely to the left. The wall was even less interesting to look at, though a few feet below it there was something of much more interest. One lone Cathar slept with contentment; back pressed tightly against the coolness of the ship's interior.

Juhani. There was something strangely eerie about this particular woman's attitude that attracted the scoundrel's interests. She was scornful, pompous in her beliefs of protection, and small in the shadow of True's precedence… and yet she was strangely fascinating. When the scoundrel had first acquired the alien's company, it was on a whim of the Council. Upon first meeting, the Cathar was practically drowning in a pool of the Dark Side, basking in her twisted mentality. Now she was different, at least on the outside. On the outside she appeared to be a changed woman; a servant to the light. But deep inside of the Cathar's feelings the over-powering Force of True's mind could sense otherwise. Something Dark sat on the ridges of her personality; something scary kept her inner motives captivated by anything other then the mission at hand.

True flung her arm lazily over the side of her bed and swayed it back and forth absentmindedly. The wind caused by her wavering hand shot soft spurts of wind towards the Cathar, who twitched her nose in annoyance. It was very quiet. The scoundrel attempted to push into the woman's mind – but even in sleep the alien had a very thick wall up, blockading entry to her thoughts. True sighed, and rolled her eyes in darkness coolly. The memory of her recent visions cascaded before her eyes. A Star Map, indescribably sounds, and bubbles. Lots and lots of bubbles. Grumble. Annoyance. Anger. I hate water.

The Ebon Hawk sailed smoothly onward through the panoramic Galaxy, leaving little to no trails of ever passing through. Every single being on the ship, however, debated to themselves whether or not Darth Malak was ascending quickly after them. It was a considerable reminder of his power whenever they encountered his continual attackers, and it was becoming narrowly obvious that he would soon have to take his own course in action. It was only a matter of time. And, sadly, the only thing the group could do at this point was sit back and wait…

Bastila shuffled about in a tiny rampage, battling the sheets with her legs. A strange sound emitted from Mission's mouth. _Oh for the love of the Force!_ True retracted her arm with anger, and flung herself into a sitting position. Her head was pounding far too incredibly to fall back asleep; and now that she was regrettably awake, the little peeves from her companions made any form of rest practically impossible. The souls of her feet sent soft tremors down the hallways as she advanced upon the room in the back of the Ebon Hawk.

Upon mounting the entranceway, the scoundrel was mildly shocked to hear HK-47 and Canderous engaging in conversation. The highly animated droid was standing tall and stiff alongside the workbench, where his metal 'elbow' was leaning against the edge of the bench with a very human mannerism. Canderous was on the opposite side of the room, crouched down on the floor, half-shining his spotless gun. True slowed her steady paces to an edging crawl and threw her body quietly against the wall, watching with an assortment of curiosity, which ranged slowly into confusion.

"I'm just saying, robot! There is something strange about your programming. I have never met an assassination droid with a personality like yours." Said Canderous, dispatching a snare towards the HK unit.

HK-47 tossed his head from side to side, his thick armored body glistening from the tiny lights of the vessel. "Statement: And I have never met a meatbag with such a lack of personality, such as yourself."

Canderous, not used to being addressed in such a way, analyzed the droid with a demoting glare. True cringed at his expression, almost afraid he was going to start manically shooting at the robot's clueless bantering. "I'd like to give the person who created you a good hard kick in-between the legs."

"Commentary: If I knew who created me, I would certainly direct you to him immediately. Regrettably, I do not even know who my previous master was."

This was still odd for the scoundrel to hear. A robot having such an intensely-navigated personality couldn't possibly not remember who rubbed it off on him. If his memory had truly been swept, as many times as he insisted, then he would be almost as quiet and un-fascinating as T3-M4… so who could his last owner possibly be? He (or she) had to be something ranging from a Mandalorian to a Sith, since he had the violent attitude that most normal people with any control over their sadistic feelings would not. True stepped slowly into the entranceway, leaning against the wall on her shoulder while twisting her legs about. An amused smile played on her thin lips as her eyes flicked back and forth between the two.

HK noticed her first, and immediately propped himself up into a straighter stance like a soldier would do at the entrance of his commanding officer. She snorted slightly at this, and shook her head passively. Canderous had an odd nostalgic look upon his face as his dark eyes glazed momentarily over the scoundrel's body, almost with a sneer.

Canderous was a very mysterious person to True – and the entirety of the group, for that matter. He was extremely good at what he did; intimidate and kill. He was rather similar to HK-47 in that particular area, though he was very quiet unlike the droid whom ceased to shut up. As far as the scoundrel knew, he was once a Mandalorian warrior, and a damn good one at that. He had fought in both wars, and had butted his head feverishly against the Republic and – oddly enough – Carth Onasi's fleet. The man had incredible potential to be any form of a weapon for either the Sith or the Republic… yet he was resolutely traveling alongside True on a crazy quest. Why in the Force he insisted on staying with this group was beyond the fathomable reaches of the scoundrel's mind – especially since, majority rule, they were Jedi.

The Mandalorian shifted his eyes to the giant gun in his lap, and smiled upon it meekly. The silver lining of the weapon cast a strange reflection to the ceiling, and he flipped it forward, causing the glare to slip quickly across the ship's walls and into the scoundrel's in the face. True blocked the light with squinting eyes, and a hand thrown out before her face.

"You know," she started on a very random impulse as he continued to scan the weapon, "You have been a real help, Canderous." Did I really just say that out loud? True shifted to the left as to escape the blasters glare, feeling it was time she asserted the matter of her appreciation for the Mandalorian's help – but then realized in a cold horror that she had actually verbally portrayed this.

Canderous emitted a laugh, and ran the bottom of his shirt along the smooth surface of his blaster, wiping feverishly at a non-existent smudge. "Well, why stop now, just when I'm hating it?"

True flinched inside, but stared inquiringly upon him. "You don't have to be here, you know…"

The Mandalorian raised his massive shoulders in the air, and dropped them a second later with a submissive shrug. He waited to respond until he was completely convinced that the weapon in his hands had no funny looking filth's that distracted from its design. Leaning it softly against the wall, Canderous inhaled deeply through his nose. "As the doddering old man says; you seem to have a destiny about you."

True raised her eyebrows in disbelief to what she just heard. What was with everyone and saying that? She had no better destiny then the next Gizka that ran past the doorway! Her task was simple; find the Star Maps, find the Star Forge, find herself a new house. A 'great destiny' fell nowhere into that steady scenario. She brushed at the sleeves of her dark robe passively, and cleared her throat. "He has told you about that too, I take it."

"Well," Canderous nodded his head and slowly stood from his crouching position; massive legs flexing in coercion. "I was here long before him, wasn't I?" And with that being eerily stated, the Mandalorian swiftly made for the door.

_Good point._

True recollected back on their first encounter on Taris, before it was completely and utterly destroyed. Carth Onasi, her strangely un-trusting companion, hadn't liked the Mandalorian at all. Bastila Shan, the bigheaded Jedi, said that he was sincere with his intentions, but she was likewise disturbed by the idea of him joining up with them. The whole ironic encounter ended up with him saving their lives, and helping the group steal away the very ship she stood stifly upon now. Without Canderous, they would be nowhere. In fact, they wouldn't even be anything but tiny blown-up fractions of meat. True squinted her eyes un-steadily at the image.

When he had safely exited the room, far from earshot, the droid in the corner clicked its bulky head towards her curiously.

"Query: May I shoot him, master?"

True turned aggravatingly slowly towards the droid; her left eye twitching. "That's it! I am going to meddle with your memory core until you remember exactly who your previous owner was, so that you can shoot at _them_!"

"Statement: You are a very violent master, master. I like it."

An hour later Canderous returned to the desolate room to find True crouched over in front of the droid, fiddling around with his insides. The scoundrel was aware of the Mandalorian coming before he was even in clear range of normal sensing, and she snapped her head towards the doorway desperately.

"Statement: Hi there! This is Aych-Kay, your shipboard droid, and I'm feeling just great, lady, and I know I'm just going to get a bundle of kicks out of any wonderful creature you would like me to translate for."

Canderous looked inquiringly at True from the doorway, stopping abruptly and giving the pair a distorted look. She motioned him to come on in but keep quiet. Sadly, HK-47 still managed to spot him.

"Excited Commentary: A real pleasure, feller," he burbled; "we are currently in orbit at an altitude of three hundred miles around the legendary planet of Manaan."

"I came to tell you we were close – but apparently 'ecstatic-droid' has it covered." Canderous chuckled lightly, walking over to his previous corner and snatching up his blaster. True shoved her arms back into the droid's stomach, and started tightening bolts she had previously loosened. The Mandalorian strapped his blaster lazily over his bulky shoulder, and gazed back. "What did you _do_?"

True shrugged her shoulders and resumed her fiddling about "I'm not really sure…" she spoke, and it echoed around the insides of the droid's center. "I think I accidentally knocked around his personality core, when I was really going for his memory."

Canderous walked forward and crouched down beside her, peering around the insides of the droid. There were many wires and circuits hanging about, and an ssortment of strange clicking levers that appeared to be loose. A puff of steam emitted from a silver pipe towards the back, and both the Mandalorian and scoundrel quickly retracted their faces.

"Statement: Oh, fiddles. This is just _such_ an embarrassment. Sometimes I just can't hold those in…" HK droned on, staring upon them both with intendment and bashfulness.

Canderous glanced up at the droid's head and grimaced. "You really need to fix him back to the way he was. I don't even think I'd trust him to speak my weight in his current state of mind."

"Commentary: I can do that for you, sure," enthused HK. "I can even work out your personality problems to ten decimal places if it will help."

The Mandalorian opened his mouth to snap something impertinent in response, but True cut him off with an exclamation of, "Hah! There!" and she twisted a screw briskly towards the left. Instantaneously to this HK-47 snapped the small door to his insides closed, and took a giant step backwards, glaring at her with rising fervors.

"Irritated Statement: That was the most horrific experience of my existence, master."

True laughed. Hard. It was so contagious that Canderous chuckled a bit himself too, and they both exchanged looks of amusement as the droid counter-attacked them by persisting the matter wasn't at all funny.

--

Three fingers tapped steadily into the computer console of the Ebon Hawks' main control panel. As the vessel lurched silently through the galaxy, nearing the plotted course for Manaan, the familiar occupancy of silence reared about the bridge. The pilot of the ship, Carth Onasi, assumed that everyone was far past the stage of sleep merely because of the obviously bland inactivity. The usual euphony that hummed about the computer consoles was rattling around in his tired mind, digging ever-lasting holes behind the whites of his eyes, and forever marking miserably upon his brain. It was rather annoying, really. Of all of the sounds the computer consoles could possibly make, whoever created them had decided that incessant beeping was appropriate. Incessant beeping. It would be so much more practical for them to be silent. Better yet, opposed to beeps, the computer could play a musical harmony whenever it was absolutely dire important for him to know something that was (other wise) blinking on the screens. But no. At this point, the pilot had grown numbly used to the noise – since almost half of his time, if not more, was spent mulling around them while flying the ship.

Leaning back in his seat, the plastic of the chair rubbing angrily against the fabric of his jacket, Carth stared at the computer module blankly as it blinked to the rapid encounter of the water-covered city. He rubbed a rough hand over his eye and coughed. He hadn't needed to cough, though. He merely coughed so that he had the reassurance that he wasn't going deaf, or crazy. _Well, I'm most likely still going crazy._ The pilot smiled lightly at the thought as it passed over his mind. Of course he was going crazy – how could you not, in this group? From the bouncy twi'lek, to the staggering old man, all the way down to the gorgeous haughty-tempered scoundrel.

True. The very image of her face sent indescribable feelings to flop around in the man's pitted stomach. When he had first met the woman he had immediately been un-attracted to her mysterious and tight-lipped existence. She was a mere accomplice to him; a republic scoundrel who did nothing more then serve on the same ship as he had, and amazingly enough became the only other survivor. Together, they had saved the arrogant young Jedi by the name of Bastila Shan. As time grew on the woman had become more and more open to him – and now, at what seemed to be a mere three months later, the pilot depended on her more than anyone he had ever met. Aside from their jaw-biting relationship, she had such a radiating spirit about her that he was slowly being drawn towards it; somewhat like a bug to a florescent light. Years. It had been many long years since anyone had had this kind of effect on Carth Onasi… and he hadn't felt these slow-building almost non-existant urges since… _Gods, help me._

Long fingernails tapped rythmicly against the wall behind him. Carth twisted his head around quickly and inquiringly, only to be thrown into the regrettable realization that he was now in the presence of the spectating Cathar. Turning his eyes slowly back towards the computer, the war hero cleared his throat softly. "Yes, Juhani?"

Randomly, Juhani chuckled. "Who was the last person to build such urges in you?"

"What are you talking abo-" The pilot paused. She had just read his thoughts. She had, literally, just broken into his deepest barriers and withdrawn the compartments of his mind. He swiveled angrily around in the chair, splicing a look of intricacy. "How long have you been there?" _How long have you been in my head…_

Juhani's pale face twisted about for a moment, finally settling on a halcyon expression. "Long enough."

Carth raised both eyebrows to a new echelon. "Find what you're looking for?"

The Cathar sent him a questioning look. "That depends."

"On?"

"Your intensions."

"Of?"

Juhani shifted her weight from one stiff leg to the other, disinclined to continue. The long red tail of hair streaming from the top of her head shuffled about her scalp as she moved, brushing over the fair-shaded skin. Carth watched her with rising aggravation. Finally, her jaw dropped slightly, and her sharp maw of teeth glinted together in an acquisitive grin. "I know what pains shadow over your past."

The pilot's eyes widened and his fake benevolence ceased. He stood from his chair with intimidating urgency. Dark creases fell across his squared face. "You know nothing of me, or my past."

Juhani threw her head back and chuckled with an irritating amusement. "I know enough." She countered, brushing her tongue dangerously across the front of her teeth. "Do not think you can lean onto the woman just because you are drawn to her. We are all drawn to her, Carth. You alone will lead to her downfall."

Carth reached his hand behind his back to the control panel, never breaking eye contact with the Cathar, and automatically shoved two switches downward as the vessel landed slowly onto the Manaan docking bay. A business-like tone fell back into his voice. "I seek nothing more then to finish this mission and leave, Juhani."

The Cathar's eyes flashed briskly over his face and locked narrowly onto his hazel eyes. He felt her search his feelings, his mind… and everything else, for that matter. Slowly her expression countered, and she raised an eyebrow in surprise. Perhaps she had misread the Force. "I sense you are telling the truth."

"I don't lie."

Rolling her shoulders up in a shrug, Juhani turned and walked back down the hall. Her rapping feet and thick-accented voice echoed back through the entranceway to the pilot, "I would keep your plans that way, if I were you."

--

Manaan was the second of two planets that orbited around the star Pyrshak. It had no moons, and a worldwide ocean engulfed the entire planet. Just above the surface there was a giant floating city, called Ahto City, which sat pleasantly perched at the peak of the water. There were two suns that orbited the planet, and they rose from the south and set in the east, shadowing the planet's real surface in everlasting darkness as they traveled lazily around it in pair. The actual surface was under a thousand pounds of water, full of craters and an underground mining facility that helped to collect kolto. Kolto, much like the Force, had an incredibly fast healing ability and was highly craved by both the Sith and the Republic. The inhabitances of Ahto City were mainly a strange fish-alien species referred to as Selkath, who liked to keep a handle on things by having both the Sith and Republican troupes live together on the planet.

As the Ebon Hawk floated down from the sky, landing upon the Ahto City docking bay with a very soft 'thud', it caught the curious attention of many people; both travelers and locals. The loading ramp fell softly to the glossy floor with a tiny clink and True walked slowly down it with unjustified awe at the city. It was absolutely beautiful; unlike anything some of their crew had ever seen before.

Mission, as she exited the Ebon Hawk, ran swiftly past the scoundrel and towards the side of the Ebon Hawk where a low wall sat towards the edge of the safe floor. She gazed over it, and said a very enthusiastic 'whoa'. True walked up slowly behind her, peered down over the edge, and likewise to the twi'lek gawked at the site. Down, down, down, there were thousands of windows and rooms that circled around the very center of Ahto City, where the huge hole they gaped down upon descended for miles. At the very wee-bottom of the circle they could make out the ocean splashing wildly about, and it gleamed and sparkled in the reflection of the suns.

"You guys can just leave me on this planet…" Mission giggled jokingly. She certainly had never laid eyes upon such a magnificent sight like this before, living her entire life in the under city of putrid city. The rest of the group eventually merged around them, all peering with placid faces over the edge.

Smiling weakly True turned her attention around as the last two people – Carth and Juahni – merged from the Ebon Hawk. Every one of her companions had a different reaction to the city as they piled onto the gleaming and seemingly un-touched surface of the docking bay, ascending over to the edge of the wall. Bastila looked unsettled and sick as she glanced down the hole. Carth and Juhani seemed particularly relieved to be off of the ship. Canderous looked angry… but then again, he always looked angry. Mission and Zaalbar were both overcome with fascination. HK-47 had little to no emotion. Jolee was sad and beside himself. And T3 literally allowed his trash-dispenser shaped body to merge three feet from the ship, looked about him, and then zipped in a hurry right back from whence he came – making sure to slam the door shut closely behind him.

True quirked an eyebrow at this, but then shook it off and walked slowly over to Jolee. The old man was standing, very far away from everyone else, leaning over the railing in his own little mind-universe. His atoned Jedi powers felt her come over, but he made no effort to face her or even budge. His dark eyes stared with a deep depression down upon the water below.

"What are you thinking about, old man?" The scoundrel inquired softly, trying to be as nice as she could without resembling a child who wants credits from grandpa.

He burrowed his shaggy gray eyebrows and sighed heavily, straightening his back from the bent-forward position. Something was strongly bothering him, and it wasn't just that the scoundrel was berating him like usual. She eyed him cautiously, waiting for a response that never came.

"Pretty little planet, isn't it?" She tried again, this time nudging him gently in the shoulder with an 'eh? EH?' kind of expression.

"Yes," Jolee finally started with a nasty mumble. "My wife always wanted to live here."

"Yeah, I don't blame her. I would want to live herrr – wife!?" True began, and then glared at the man in surprise. He had a wife? How could she not have known about that? Better yet, how could any person in their right state of mind stand to be married to a man such as him? _Perhaps that's a bit harsh…_

Jolee looked at her angrily, huffing a bit. "What – does that shock you?"

"A little bit, yes."

"Oh, I get it. The old hermit couldn't possibly be married - he's too crazy! What woman would ever want to marry him? Is that what it is?"

"Well – er… as a matter of fact, yes."

The scoundrel instantly regretted saying it as a wave of pain transmitted over the elder man's dark face. He didn't care to hide his feeling towards the matter like he usually did, and this was perhaps so that True would shut up. Either way, no matter what his intentions were, she did. Jolee slowly turned his gaze back onto the water, and the scoundrel stared at him awkwardly, not sure what to say or if she should say anything or what. Thankfully, two shouting voices caught everyone's attention in unison as they emitted furiously from the walkway of the docking bay's hallway.

"I'm warning you! Don't push me or you'll get _just_ what you're asking for!" The republican soldier in the funny-looking hat exclaimed, clenching his fists in frustration.

"Try it. Just try it," The sith replied coolly, seeming to be keeping his composure much better then the other man. "I'd love to see you throw the first punch. With all of the cameras around, the Selkath would be all over you in a matter of thirty seconds."

The republican soldier flared his nostrils angrily, but said nothing. He seemed to know that the sith soldier was right, and he glared up at one of the cameras zooming in atop of their heads. The sith laughed, attempting to egg him on. It didn't take a Force sensitive person to see that the two men absolutely hated each other.

"If you ever feel like relieving the world of your worthless existence, Republic scum, then come see me. I'll be happy to fulfill your – "

True waved her hand swiftly to the left, having quite enough of their banter. The sith soldier flew backwards across the slick floor some twenty feet, cascading into the leg of a merchant whom at one point had his arms full, who in turn fell on top of him in a mess of outfits and fragile-glass. Bastila and Carth both stared at the scoundrel's back with disapproval, and Jolee finally smiled. The republican soldier, mouth agape, turned slowly towards the group with shock. It was this particular man's bleak propensity to be kind to new travelers of the planet, but this caught him a bit off guard.

"Master Jedi… that was not a good idea at all!" He said with a wavering tone.

True shrugged her shoulders and flashed him a calming smile. "Ah well. If anyone asks I can just say he fell."

"_Twenty feet backwards_?" Bastila countered angrily, throwing her hands angrily to her bony-hips for emphasis.

Jolee chuckled. "Even I will admit that's a bit of a stretch, kid."

True shook their comments quickly away, and walked towards the gawking man. "Why are both the Sith and the Republic on this planet?"

"Well," started the man, "we are all here for the kolto. The Selkath believe that if they keep a neutral ground here, selling kolto to both sides, then they will become invaluable and no one will try to conquer them."

The scoundrel raised both of her eyebrows in turn, assorting through the many ways that plan would go terribly _terribly_ wrong for the fish-people. Small groups of people – mainly Czerka Corporates – hustled swiftly around the two as they spoke, each having a very important task to finish that, in reality, probably wasn't all that important.

"So… what brings you to this planet, master Jedi?"

"Have you seen a Star Map lying around anywhere, by chance?"

The man stared at her blankly, seeming to be emotionally un-harmed by her lack of an answer to his nosey question. "Er… no… there is a map shop in the East corridor, if that helps."

True refrained from smacking the soldier in the forehead with the handle of her lightsaber. "It doesn't."

"Is there anything else I can assist you with?"

True opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by a foreign voice other then either of their own.

"Carth? Carth Onasi… is that really you?"

The pilot, who had been busily watching the scoundrels exchange with the republican soldier, turned wildly about to the familiar voice he once knew oh so well. A smile of joy and confusion rushed hurriedly across his face, and he half-ran over to the small dark haired man wearing a Czerka Corporation uniform. _It can't be… _"Jordo?"

At this, the smaller man grabbed hold of Carth around the neck and pulled him into a warm embrace, patting his shoulder excitedly. "You old spacedog! How have you been? I thought for sure you'd be fighting on some ship out there." The man gestured excitedly to the sky.

True walked slowly up behind Carth, eyeing them both with fluent curiosity. Her pilot companion looked to be both shocked and saddened by the random encounter of his old friend. She noted his well-proportioned face quiver, more then less likely recollecting on horrible memories from the extremely distant past.

"I was. I crashed."

Jordo chuckled and shook his head around in fits of surprise. "I can't imagine what it would take to keep you on the ground – oh – must have to do with your pretty friend here…"

Carth's eyes flashed quickly to his left soldier in confusion. "Oh… right!" He chuckled, but he didn't in fact find it very funny. At all. "This is True. She's my – er… we're…" Carth glanced at True, who in turn was staring back in mystification. _Friends. We're friends. How difficult is that for me to say?_ "So what are you doing here, Jordo? The last time I saw you was on, well, Telos actually."

"Yeah," Jordo said with a drop in his cheery tone. "It's a shame about home. I haven't even heard anything of you since…" He paused momentarily, slumping his shoulders forward sadly. "Well, what I mean is, my condolences to your wife."

True felt Carth's feelings remit negatively and he shifted while essaying for control. When the pilot said nothing, Jordo continued. "At least your boy made it out alright!"

Carth's eyes widened considerably larger, and he took a wavering step to the side. "My… my _boy_?" Everyone in the group standing behind him either gasped in shock at the fact Carth had a son, or was definitely more interested in the conversation _now_. "You mean… Dustil?"

"Yes. I saw him on my last stop at Korriban… though he didn't recognize me. He didn't tell you he was there?"

"No!" Carth said, just above a whisper. "Jordo… I – I haven't seen Dustil since – since the attack on Telos! Are you…" Carth paused, and looked as if he was about ready to snatch Jordo around the shoulders and shake him around. "Are you absolutely certain it was him!?"

Jordo took an aggravatingly long time to take the pilot's words into consideration… and then nodded pleasantly. "Yeah. Mhm. I'd recognize Dustil anywhere. Looks just like Mirelle did… I remember when we were young and used to fight over her affections. Good thing you won. You two were real good together…" The man stopped short of himself, realizing that the more and more he mentioned of Carth's wife, it caused the pilot to compress into fits of anger. So, of course, he figured he'd just add on top of the anger-pile. "Your son's joined the sith, Carth."

There was a very long moment in which time stopped. Everything was blurry and seemed to move in prolonged motion. Carth choked. "What do you mean he's _joined_ the Sith!?"

A loud buzzer went off overhead, and Jordo glanced up at the loudspeaker with frustration. "Yeah, there's a Sith Academy on Korriban… I saw him all dressed up in their uniform and everything. But look – that's my cue, I gotta get back to work… but we should catch up!" The short man exclaimed as he backed slowly away, waiving quickly, and then disappeared into the distance.

--

Upon further examination, Ahto City was a tremendous shell-shaped structure, floating buoyantly upon the bight of the ocean. The corridors were spotless and shiny, and the walkways of the halls were a welcoming shade of alluring silver. After using yet-again another case of Force persuasion to avoid paying the docking fee, the group walked through the city gates with a long range of treading feet. When finally reaching the outer rims of the cities corridors, a blighted light rushed happily for their recently sullen faces. The view was amazing. There was, at first glance, a long span of lighted stores, cantina's, chattering merry people in every corner, and five spurting fountains in the center of the amusement area. Best of all, just beyond the man-made entertainments; there was the ocean.

The two sun's cast a long over-powering reflection across the blue water as they settled softly beyond the horizon – nonetheless you couldn't notice the farthest one since it was perpetually eclipsed by the other. The small ripples of the ocean bobbed up and down in rhythmic repetition, and gave the area a sense of eerie peace. No matter what their attitudes had been, ranging from sadness to excitement, the group all settled into a calm and euphoric wonder as they entered the city.

Carth was the only one who stood numbly unaffected. Withdrawing himself from the group quietly and unnoticeably, the pilot swiftly alienated his presence towards the oceanic over-view of the city. As he walked slowly towards it, peering with displeasure over the side, the pilot wished deep within that he could simply teeter over the edge and disappear forever…

_Dustil's alive._ This thought was never something that Carth imagined himself relaying as truthful reality. No matter how many dreams he had had of seeing his son again – no matter how many times he would wake up crying because he knew he never would – the space pilot never pictured himself knowing those two words were actually true. He placed his hands softly on the railing and leaned easily forward as an overwhelming feeling of joy and pain swept over his unsteady body. _He must be a man by now…_

True watched him walk slowly away and felt her heart slip into a very dark corner. Life had such shrewd ways of showing no mercy on the man, and it was obviously slowly tearing his soul apart. It made him feel like he was going crazy, even though he hadn't: _yet_. Jolee slowly nudged the scoundrel in the arm, drawing her away from her thoughts. Her eyes flashed quickly upon the old man with inquiry, and he simply replied by shoving her lightly forward, urging her to go. The scoundrel hesitated, but reluctantly lurched forward.

When finally reaching the peak of the wall, a small breeze threw her hair about, and the overwhelmingly warm-smell of salt mingled within her nose. She leaned on the wall next to him, staring out at the vast span of peacefully rolling water. A strong wave of ocean splashed furiously against the walls below them, and white shimmering foam floated slowly out to sea. The sun retracted from the image in rays of gleam, and it dispatched pretty glares of yellow through her auburn mane of hair.

Carth propped his elbows miserably atop the railing, and the cold glass reached through the linen of his jacket, shivering his back with anguish. "I know that we have to stay on task…" he finally started; his dry and unused throat sticking together as he spoke. "But if we can try and find him – if _I_ can try and find him…"

"Korriban is the last planet on our list." True said softly in reassurance, twitching her gaze from the water onto the pilot's attractive face. He nodded slowly to this, waving the two strands of dark hair against his forehead, and then stooped his head with desolation to his broad chest.

"I don't think I'm going to be much of a help until we find him. I… I can't focus on the mission."

True bit her lower lip with a hallowed expression, mollifying the queasy feeling that was building in her stomach … and it wasn't from the water. She wanted, more then anything, to be accompanied by Carth if no one else. He made her feel safe, and she trusted him with a much stronger intensity then anyone else. But, the mission was the main focus to be maintained, at any and all costs. "I understand."

Behind them, two groups of men began to yell scornfully at each other about how, in a nutshell, 'my ship is faster then yours' – only instead of ships, they were talking about fleets, and instead of faster, they were talking about how they were going to kill each other. Carth's ears perked back at this and he reluctantly hoisted his head as they spoke. Eventually the two debating groups were broken apart by a nearby Selkath that threatened to throw them all in jail if they didn't calm down.

True turned completely around and leaned her elbows on the railing, now facing towards the city while watching the two groups quickly disperse. "Y'know, it's really a bad idea to have the Republic and the Sith both here on this planet." She mused to Carth, doubting that he even cared to listen to anything she had to say at this point.

Carth glanced at the scoundrel over his shoulder thoughtfully, thankful for her changing the subject. _She is starting to know me all too well, by now_. A long sigh emitted from his mouth, and he drooped his shoulders forward in defeat. "Well, there's only one way that we can change anything in the Galaxy, and that's to find the Star Forge."

True stared blankly at the rest of her companions as they all spoke in animations to one another. Mission and Canderous were speaking with nodded heads about something serious. Zaalbar was holding his bow caster in front of him so that HK could further examine it. Jolee and Bastila were having, yet again; another heated 'secret' conversation full of glares and annoyed gestures. When she looked at Juhani, on the other hand, a shiver ran up and down the scoundrel's back as she noticed the woman peering directly back. True tossed around the idea of using the Force to scoop the Cathar into the shimmering fountains.

Carth noticed True's sudden unnerving shudder, and followed her eyes to where she was gazing upon with a twitching sneer. He swallowed anticipated unsettlement as it flowed in tremors up to his throat. "That woman is very strange."

A smile curved the scoundrels lips upward. "How do you figure that?"

"Well, she seems to be utterly convinced that me and you are in love… or something along the lines." Said Carth with a distant sigh, relaying the impression that his mind was somewhere else.

True's stomach flopped, and she belted out an appropriate laugh. "Oh really…?"

Carth nodded, mimicking the scoundrel's prior movements and adjusting himself around. His eyes wandered lazily among groups of people, flashing from one unfamiliar face to another unfamiliar face to another and so on. If he wasn't feelings so incredibly horrid, he might have found the moment just as awkward as True did… but he was far too jostled to realize it.

True inhaled deeply and flashed the man an admissible smile, hoping he would shift back into his up-beat and protective self. Didn't happen. It was a horrible feeling to know that she had a helpless lack in effects to his current mood. _The faster I find the Star Map, the better._ "You wait here with the group," She said softly, dropping the smile when he failed to return it. "I'm going to go check out the Republic Embassy and see if I can figure something out."

True entered the Embassy, that played 'host' to an incredibly large number of orange-suited republican soldiers, with a stubborn look of urgency. As she walked alone down the shining hallways, rushing with hurried steps across the flashing floor-tiles, several republican soldiers bowed their heads to her in huge waves of respect. At fist, this confused her, but then she realized (with a giant roll of her eyes, it might be added) that they were all doing this while corresponding to the notice of the lightsabers that swung playfully at her hips. It was amazing, she thought, how people reacted to Jedi. They weren't _that_ great. Most of them, she personally relayed to herself while picture Bastila, were overly-confident and pathetically obsessed with their Force powers.

When reaching the end of the corridor, stepping into a giant and surprisingly empty room, a dark-skinned officer sitting in a huge chair behind a very thin desk greeted True warmly. At first, he seemed bored with the usual entrance of a person, but then his eyes brightened noticeably when he viewed the lightsabers. _And here I was hoping this man would be different… _

He stood up from his chair with an outstretched hand. True took hold of his warm palm urgently, and flinched slightly as he shook it up and down with rapid appreciation, practically cutting the circulation from all five of her fingers. She jerked her hand back with a huge smile, and waved them around behind her back in an attempt to regain nerve feeling.

"Welcome to Manaan. I'm Roland Wann. How can I aid you?" Said the officer.

"Well, I'm looking for a Star Map." She said blandly. When this caused nothing but a hesitant brow-raise, she continued. "It's a remnant from an ancient and forgotten race. Very big. Triangular. Underwater…"

"An ancient and forgotten race, hm? And you think it might be on Manaan?" The man echoed with a doddering look about his face.

"Well, I did say underwater. And, this entire planet is underwater. So… yes." True said, staring with distaste at his vintage-colored outfit, feeling very un-inclined to relay her vision to a mere Republican Soldier.

"Hmmh." Roland mumbled, falling back into his ridiculously large chair, and rubbing slowly at his chin.

True's mawkishness was quickly separating and floating away at his stubbornness. It was really a very simple question, with an even simpler answer; yes, or no. She attempted to slip into the man's thoughts as he sat silently and pondering, but she was only able to catch hold of positive signals to her question. Quickly, she popped out her hip, and leaned against his table. "You know something, don't you?"

Portraying very little shock to her accusation, the man nodded with a twisting smile. "Perhaps. But if you want any information about that, you'll have to do something for me first."

_Of course… I always have to do something for you greedy people._ For just once in her pathetic little life, True daydreamed to herself, she wanted someone to come to her without any loopholes. She wanted this person to be wearing a flowing blue outfit, with little halo's floating above their head. She wanted this person to run with maniacal glee towards her, and tell her they knew where the Star Map was, and that they wanted absolutely nothing in return for the knowledge of its whereabouts. She wanted them to then take her by the hand and lead her to it, skipping the entire way while humming a melancholy tune… the scoundrel raised an eyebrow at the strange thought, and wished she had gotten more sleep the night before. "Well, what must I do?"

Pleased with her affirmation, Roland leaned forward from his chair and recovered a datapad from a sliding drawer in the desk. "We were using a submersible reconnaissance droid in the ocean surrounding Ahto City and it was… damaged, long story short. When it came back up to the surface the Sith must have gotten a hold of it." He paused to pass the datapad across the table, "And I need you to get its data back."

True shrugged her shoulders lightly and stared at the datapad as he handed it to her. Displayed on the blue-hued screen there was a slow-moving picture of the silver and white droid. It was a ridiculously huge piece of machinery, with ridiculously large eyes, and a very ridiculous design structure…"Seems easy enough."

The man chuckled as she said this, and the scoundrel dropped her happy expression immediately. "Nothing is ever that easy."

--

Roland Wann was a very correct man.

The task of getting into the sith base was amazingly difficult. He _must_ have planned for it, or something. He must have said to himself one day, "Hm, I'm going to create this really illusive task for any moronic Jedi that comes into play – oh, look! A moronic Jedi!" And here she was, playing 'rescue the droid datapad'. In fact, True had even gone as far into her imagination as to figure that the Republic was teamed up with the Selkath, using those millions of little camera's that were spread randomly around the city to watch over her as she ran about, uncovering codes to get into the sith base by attempting to open impossible crates, interrogating stubborn men, and unlocking strange computer systems. And now, as she stood before an extremely vicious sith receptionist, the Selkath and Roland were rolling on the floor in fits of laughter. Shaking off the impulsive image, True looked up lamely at the Sith officer with waling fury.

She was a particularly ugly woman, with a particulalry high nose and very particularly large cheekbones, and True particularly hated her upon entry.

"Listen, I don't know who sent you in here, but you are _not_ on my list!" She said with a sneer, pointing at the door for the umpteenth time, commanding they leave immediately. HK-47 clicked his head impatiently, and Canderous' eyes gleamed with a dexterous plague.

True shot her hip out, and picked vigorously at something from underneath her nail. Eventually, after appeasing the impulse to shank her, the scoundrel's eyes shot up towards the woman with warning and she smiled in strenuous pleasure. "Shoot her, HK."

The droid lifted its giant weaponry at level with the woman's head, checking it into place with a robotic click. The woman's eyes widened with fear, making her look even more horrid, and she threw her hands mercilessly before her. "No, please! I just work here! Don't kill me!"

True shook her head with disappointment. "You are one pathetic woman. Now, tell me where the droid is."

"I told you already, I don't know anything about any droid."

True raised an eyebrow and recollected that image in her mind. "You never said that."

"Well, I'm saying that now." She retorted snappishly.

True clicked her tongue in a scornful way, and walked slowly towards the desk that the sith receptionist was shielded behind. "You are in no position to speak to me with that tone of voice, lady…"

The group's plan, they had decided while journeying to the base, was simple. They would use the pass code to get into the base, use the computer console at the main desk to deactivate the Selkath's weapon radar's, upload the whereabouts of the droid, and kill anyone that got into their way. But, now, this ugly woman was not cooperating – and they couldn't pull out any weaponry until the weaponry detector was deactivated.

The woman glared at her with challenge, and leaned forward as well, coming dangerously close to bumping noses with her. Sadly, unknown to True at the time, the woman was _really_ leaning forward and pushing a giant red 'emergency' button – that might as easily be translated as the 'holy crap – someone get in here, and bring a blaster' button.

Flashing red lights detonated in correspondence to the pressing of the button. _Imbecile of a woman!_ True withdrew her lightsaber with little lethargy, and flew the glowing-yellow blade across her neck. They had not foreseen that happening… and so the plan was, now, a little bit more challenging.

The battle that immediately followed to this was not at all an easy one. It began with three doors opening in unison and unpiling a mass amount of sith into the small room. Carth, Canderous, Zaalbar, and HK-47 all shot down four of the encountering enemies before any of the Jedi and Mission even began their attacks with melee. In immediate response to the beginning of the fight, True hacked vigorously at the sith stabbing left and right, and hopped quickly over the receptionist's desk while dodging small red blaster shots as they whirred past her head. As the battle droned forward on the other side of the desk, she tapped furiously at the computer console, pulling up the location of the republican droid. Her gray eyes skimmed quickly down the list of options, and she pounded a finger angrily on the "Show Sith Base Coordinates" button. Scan, scan, scan… finally she found the option to "View Droid Control Room" and she pressed on it. An angry groan emitted from her lips as the screen then continued onward to the ridiculously pointless question of "Are You Sure You Would Like To View The Droid Control Room Coordinates? Press Yes or No". Another jab. She half expected the next words to read across the screen, "ARE YOU ABSOLUTELY POSITIVELY SURE YOU WANT TO VIEW THE DROID CONTROL ROOM COORDINATES!?"

A loud slam. True's eyes darted quickly upward as Bastila's back was crushed mercilessly across the top of the desk as she held her double-bladed lightsaber furiously before her face, blocking a strong blow sent directly towards her head. The scoundrel threw a hand quickly in front of her, and Force-threw the sith vigorously against the wall. "Can you search a _little_ bit faster, please?!" The Jedi panted with mild frustration.

"I am trying my oh, so, very best, Bastila." True responded curtly, batting her eyelashes with irritation.

"Well," Canderous said as he rolled across the floor, seeking refuge behind the desk along side her and the dead receptionist. "Did you manage to turn off the detectors?"

True laughed edgily, trying to avoid the immediate response. She watched Canderous in silence as he stood up and shot at the sith from atop the desk. "I… forgot."

"You _what_!?" He exclaimed, looking down on her, and yet still shooting blindly.

"What now!" Jolee yelled in response, grabbing ahold of his sith attackers left arm with 'old-man swiftness', and thrusting his saber deep in-between the man's rib cage.

"She forgot to turn off the sensors!" Canderous retorted angrily, shooting now with much more vigilance, and blasting a man directly between the eyes. There was a new oncoming fleet running quickly through the door.

"How could you forget to turn them off!?" Said Mission, kicking her foot up into a man's face, and hooking the blade of her vibrosword into his un-guarded side.

"Oh for the love of the Force!" True screamed, jumping back over the desk and stabbing a Sith swiftly in the back as he ran with determination towards the wookie. "I'm sorry, ok!? I was a little dissarayed by the fringes of my hair!"

They all screamed jumbles of colorful anger-filled shouts in her direction.

"Enough! I'm on it!" Carth finally said in a rhetorical tone to the scoundrel's defense, and he lifted his blaster up to each of the five motionless sensors in turn, exploding them into millions of tiny pieces with loud clashes. The gesture was, however, a useless one that would probably do nothing more then irritate the Selkath even further. The battle had been going on for much more then three minutes, and there was no way that the fish-alien's had not noticed something strangely violent going on inside of the sith base – and it was certainly no scenario along the lines of, "Oh, hey bob. What ya watchin' on the sensor screens?" "Oh, y'know. Same old sithy violent stuff. They have an alarmingly high number of weapons in the facility, and no one is answering our calls. What's for dinner?"

--

"You there, human! You are under the arrest of the Ahto City Civil Authority!"

True had barely taken half of a stuttering step out of the doorway – the droid's hidden datapad hidden tightly behind her back – when the Selkath snapped angrily at her.

"What? Why?" But of course she knew why. Upon entering this city, moments before using the Force to persuade him to allow her entry without pay, the docking bay manager had told the group very specifically that this particular city had two main rules; keep the peace, and keep the peace some more… or something around those lines. Either way, the Selkath High Court stressed their fishy-gills on no violence, and the scoundrel had seriously just stepped on that rule, then spit on it, and then spit on it some more.

The Selkath's giant eyes narrowed on her respectably, and he twitched his head to the side with frustration. "Our camera's recorded you entering the base."

True shifted her weight, and shook her hair around wildly. "No, no, no. That wasn't us… that was my twin sister and her identical friends."

Again, the Selkath stood overwhelmingly unconvinced. His eyes flashed behind her, and he jabbed an accusing finger towards the direction. "What is that!?"

True turned slowly around with arms placed innocently behind her back. She glanced with horror upon a limp and bloody arm merging from the sith base main door. She sucked in air and squinted. "That?" she started, turning merrily back around to face him. "He sleeps there. Like… all of the time. I'm not sure why, really…"

Hey, it was worth a shot.

An opposite Selkath to the one that had addressed her, ran – or, wobbled, since they aren't particularly built for running – over to the doorway that the group had recently merged from. The scoundrel locked her jaw tightly in anticipation as he pushed the entranceway open with his foot. "They're all dead!" He exclaimed in the fishy language. The Selkath standing before her scowled in reply and waved his webbed hand furiously. The ten robots at his flanks shifted quickly upon her, towering over her small and useless body. _Greeeeat…_

Hours later, long after the suns had set slowly behind the ocean, the Ebon Hawk sat with bitter silence in the docking bay. Inside of the ship there was very little speaking. In fact; there was none.

Seven very different people, and two droids, stood and sat quietly in the center of the vessel with seven very assorted expressions, and none. Mission paced back and forth with rising and falling hope every time the ship creaked and quaked. Canderous tapped his foot in anticipation while bitterly wiping the side of his blaster clean, sitting on the floor. Jolee stared motionlessly at a blank wall in novelty, seating himself on a crate. Zaalbar brayed in misery as his hair-covered eyes blared down upon the floor while he sat caddy-cornered to the Mandalorian. Bastila stood in the center of the room; purple eyes shifting back and forth. Back. Forth. Back. Forth. Fixated on the twi'lek. Juhani crouched eerily in the corner, scraping her nail mindlessly across the floor. The droid's just clicked their heads up and down, not sure what to do.

The only member missing from the room was the pilot.

A long finger ran lovingly across the control panel of the ship. Carth watched his hand run back and forth along the smooth surface of the humming computer console, and he grimaced as a potpourri of feelings waved over his face. A vital heap of weight hung in the bottom of the pilot's stomach as he picture the scoundrel standing before a court of un-wavering Selkath – but somehow, as if he himself had a Force-bond with her, he knew she would be okay. Again as frank as it is to be stated, he might have been a bit more worried about True if the memory of his son wasn't clinging to every crevice of his mind. That boy… he grew his whole entire life away without a father. Carth felt pathetic to know that he had failed Dustil, and his wife, so much. _If_ he had been there through his son's life he would have never become a student at the sith academy. Who had taken him in? How had he turned out? Did he looked as much like his mother as Jordo had said he did? _I should have never stopped looking for him. I should have never left them on that planet. I should have been there…_

He quickly slammed his head against the panel, trying to ward off the overpowering thoughts he had spent little over seven years to avoid. He felt like a one-man army, fighting off the shadows in his head alone. He desperately wished, more then anything, that someone could help him ease the suffering. Someone like True. He wished it was True. But True, that beautiful scoundrel he had grown so attached to, had a separate destiny that strongly disinclined him – and, likewise, it was pivotal for him to focus on the mission – but rather impossible.

His thoughts were interrupted as the murmurs of the rest of the Ebon Hawk's crew muttered mercilessly yonder the hall.

"So… did anyone else know that Carth had a son?" Echoed Missions soft and curious voice.

Silence. Presumably where they all numbly shook their heads.

"Well… did anyone know he had a wife?"

Silence.

"But…"

"Mission," Jolee mumbled softly. "Sometimes adults have painful memories that they like to keep in the dark. When you grow up you'll have yourself a long, long list of memories. If you're lucky, most of them will be good. If you're not, some will be bad. And if you're really unlucky, some will be so bad that you never want to be reminded of them again… ever."

"Hey, don't talk to me like I 'aint no adult! I have painful memories too, ya' know!"

"I doubt you have any that compare to his, however. He's lost so much…" said Bastila softly.

"Well so have I! You don't see me mopin' around…"

"_Mission_!" The two Jedi's voice's snapped in unison.

A small beep emitted from the console, and he lifted his head momentarily to gaze at the flashing screen. It showed a blinking light where the blue and white outline of the ships loading ramp was, relaying the message that it had opened. True was back.

--

The encounter with the Selkath High Court had been one of those moments in her life that the scoundrel was not particularly proud of. She grimaced at the recollection of the meeting for three big reasons. One; she was being presented by an extremely useless lawyer who did nothing but get her into more trouble then she was already in. Two; as the meeting droned on and on, she had reluctantly resulted in begging for mercy. Three; when the meeting was completely over, and they had decided to free her, she had stumbled upon a very drunk man who started to feel her up – so she smacked him. Three-and-a-half; after smacking him, the Selkath dragged her BACK into the courtroom for being even _more _violent, and she had literally given up on all hope. Somehow, strangely enough, here she was again – freed of all charges.

After being in court for three long hours, the scoundrel stopped quickly by the Republic Embassy to return the datapad. Upon arrival she was in return informed of what was really going on. Apparently, to no immediate surprise, the Republic was being 'sneaky' behind the Selkath and Sith's backs. Underneath the miles and miles of water there was a republic hrakart rift where the main source of kolto was created. In short, the Republic had a hidden facility down there, where they were collecting the kolto for their own personal gain over the sith. For some strange reason, however, they had lost all contact with the underwater facility – hence the purpose of the droid. True had raised an eyebrow at this, inquiring what this had to do with her and the Star Map. Roland said that he suspected that her 'ancient artifact' might have had something to do with the difficulties in communication. With little other choice of venturing down to the planets true surface, the scoundrel had hesitantly accepted the offer to take his personal five-seat-submersible to escapade down to the bottom.

"I don't understand why I have to stay on the ship!" Mission said angrily, almost to the point of throwing a fit.

"And I don't understand why _I_ have to play babysitter for _her_." Juhani countered coolly, pointing a lazy yet accusing finger at the twi'lek, who in turn stuck her tongue out at the Cathar.

True rubbed her hands in aggravation across her tightly closed eyelids. "Because only _five_ people can fit in the submersible. Five!" She repeated for what seemed to be the seventh time, sticking five of her fingers high in the air and shoving her hand in both of their faces.

Bastila leaned against the wall behind True on her shoulder, sighing as the alien and the little girl continued to battle. The scoundrel had decided to take – as her four remaining options – herself, Canderous, Jolee, and HK. No more, no less. And, to no shock at all, the only two people making a stink about it were Mission and Juhani.

Finally having just about enough of the misbehavior, True grabbed each of their matters in turn, staring them blankly in the eyes. "Ok, you – I don't need you getting hurt down there. This isn't a joking matter – at all. So… stop!" She said angrily, jostling the twi-lek slightly around to prove her point.

"And you…" True glanced up at Juhani, letting her hands slip softly from the alien's blue shoulders. "You may be able to learn something _useful_ while staying here."

The Cathar grumbled, and flashed the scoundrel a momentary glare. "Like?"

"Pazaak?" Mission tried sarcastically.

"See?" True choked down a laugh. "Something useful."

A sense of mitigation flew through True's body as the duo finally stormed off in separate directions, without even caring to say goodbye – much like someone else who's name shall not be mentioned. She turned quickly about on her heal, black robes flipping wildly about in the air. Bastila, as if re-ignited by the gesture, shoved herself from the wall and hurried quickly after her.

The group of six wandered slowly through the halls of the Republic Embassy, following lazily behind Roland Wann. The orange republic flags in the never-ending halls billowed slowly, as if foreshadowing, and it sent funny chills to encircle around True's spine. The glimmering and spotless walls provided by the structure of Ahto City shone dark and menacingly in the night's sky – opposed to the daylights wonderful and calming paranoiac. They traveled deeper and deeper into the un-known depths of the embassy, hearing only the incessant click-tap of HK's feet along the shiny walkway. Bastila looked uneasy, and Canderous and Jolee both wore stone-hard expressions of nothingness. No one was even remotely prepared for what was going to come…

"Well, here it is," Roland finally announced as they came to an abrupt halt, spooking them all slightly by the sound of a voice. He placed his dark hand over a DNA-sensor hand pad, and take a step back as the huge door slipped quickly open with a quiet whir. Beyond it in the quietly huge room a submersible bobbed playfully before a small loading dock. True eyed it queasily, clenching her hands absentmindedly in apprehension.

Jolee walked towards the very small ship, bending forward and tapping the top of the submersible with an echoing clatter. He distorted his face back and forth, and raised both eyebrows. "Hmmm."

"It's quite safe!" Roland affirmed quickly, rushing over to Jolee and opening the hatch. The compartment inside looked even _less_ exciting then the outside – if at all possible.

More queasiness. True had another one of those feelings that Roland was going to laugh at them later for actually doing this…

Canderous opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it and slammed his jaw quickly upward. He threw his eyes into convulsions of uncertainty towards True. The scoundrel could tell what he was thinking, even without pushing into his private mind; the five of them all squished into that tiny little submersible? It seemed rather unlikely.

After standing awkwardly around for a few silent moments, Jolee was the first one to finally, mumbled angrily to himself, enter into the floating submersible. Bastila cautiously followed him, then HK, and finally Canderous with a quick comment of, "I call sitting on someone's lap!"

True smiled weakly, trying to convince herself that this wouldn't be all that bad. Her eyes flicked coolly onto the dark skinned Republican Soldier as he beamed upon her. "Thanks for this." She said in a small voice, shuffling her feet around at the ear-clattering bang of the submersible against the dock. This probably caused a giant gaping hole to form on the side of the ship, unknown to them, and was going to take in so much water that they were all going to drown. True jostled her shoulders around, freeing the immediate scene from her mind, and gulped.

Roland lurched towards her and nodded. "Good luck Jedi." He placed a warm hand on her shoulder, and then disappeared from the giant water-joined room.

True turned back towards the submersible and watched it teeter back and forth, continuing to bang lightly against the dock. She inhaled. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale… walking slowly forward; horrified with the situation she had gotten herself into, something tingled warmly against the back of her neck, opening the Force-awareness to someone approaching…

"True…!"

Carth's familiar voice reached after her as she placed her right foot unnervingly into the submarine. The scoundrel paused momentarily and flashed her sparkling eyes back in his direction with confusion and relief – half to see him, half at the delayed entrance to her more-then-less-likely doom.

The pilot ran quickly up to her, grabbing hold of her left wrist in a rushing sweep. He was rather inwardly surprised to find her touch was cold and clammy, unlike the usual all-around warmth that emanated from her golden skin. He swallowed down heavily, emanating a deplorable surge. "If I don't say this now, I feel like I might break into a thousand pieces." His voice wavered, and he looked at her with an expression that was indescribable to words. Juhani's voice clambered down around his mind instantaneously to this.

Glancing down at her wrist, the scoundrel sucked in a quick breath of air, waiting for him to continue. Why had he come back? What happened to him worrying about his son? _Spit it out…!_ "What's wrong, Carth…?"

"Just – just p_lease_ be careful down there. I…"

She felt empty.

She felt cold.

The pilot dropped her wrist quickly, and looked sick to his stomach as he backed slowly away from her; and his voice was not sweet or full of care, but more commanding and worry-swept. " I can't loose you too, damnit! I can't." _You're all I have left…_

And, in that brief moment, True Baill's heart plummeted to the bottom of the ocean.

--

**Ohhh don't you hate me for ending it like that? Second part coming soon – makes me want to hum the 'Jaws' theme music. :P **

**Read and review??**

**You: Why, yes Twist, I would LOVE TO!!**


	6. Manaan pt 2 : Onto the Precipice

**Blatant0****:** Awe I'm so super excited you enjoyed that chapter! I was really skeptical about it, because it didn't come out as well as I had expected – but if people like it, then that's all I can ask for! Thanks for reviewing… and sticking with my story and me! :)

**Lucifer Yaway****:** Pshhh, how could you be mad at this face?? Lol. Well I hope I succeed in this chapter as well as in the last one in making you not _utterly_ hate Manaan (though I totally hate the Hrakart Rift too. It's totally lame and scary.) I'm so glad you still think I'm funny… hehe. Thanks for another wonderful review, darlin'.

**MikkiMouse: **Well, I'm glad I amused ya somehow. :) It's what I hope for. Thanks for that, I hope you like this update ;)

--

**Title: A Knights Tale**

**Rating: PG-13 **

**Chapter Summary: **Hrakart Rift. Not much fun, not very pleasant, not something that any of this group looks forward to encountering.

**Warning****: **Shifts from slow to fast moving – but gimme a wee break here; it's extremely difficult to write 20+ pages of a ridiculously boring part of the game. :P

**Disclaimer: **Not my characters (in general) but a lot of their personalities are me, myself, and Twist.

**Author's Note:** Ahh. I was busy for the weekend. I apologize for the late-ish update.

I really REALLY hope you guys like this update. There are some things that I have in this chapter that I am super _super_ happy with – and then, of course, things I'm not happy with at all.

**(Manaan pt.2)**

**Onto the Precipice**

--

"**My apprentice, Darth Bandon, shall take care of our young Jedi friend."**

Down, down, down.

The submersible shot deep into the Manaan Ocean, soaring through the dense water towards the bottom of the planet and its true surface. Firaxan sharks were everywhere and more, lulling frighteningly close to the small ship as it eased quickly and blindly past them. The five inhabitance of the submersible sat numbly inside, strenuously staring beyond the small waterproof window with held-in breaths – half afraid they might run out of air. The headlights of the vessel glared angrily through the musky waters, allowing the group to see only a mere ten feet before the ship, forcing a very unsettling notion to settle over them as a whole. It was a good thing, in short, that the submersible was on autopilot. A sense of settlement overcame them all as they neared the bottom of the sea and the extremely thick musky waters started to disperse. One hundred feet below the submersible the Hrakart Rift stretched over an acutely wide span of the planet. On the edge of the rift, releasing giant amounts of bubbles, the Hrakart Republic Station sat with very apparent internal shambles.

The small vessel, upon this wonderful assurance of mist-free water, suddenly rocketed them at speeds in excess of – as read on the blinking speedometer of the submersible – 95643GZ through the dense currents of oceanic water. As it may have already been guessed, 95643GZ is not a fixed velocity, but it is clearly far too fast.

After dodging swiftly past an accurately sized Firaxan, the submersible dove directly for the ground below the station, ushered itself smoothly into an approximate-fit hole, and popped up to the other side of the thick wall with a giant splash. Water poured down the sides of the submersible as the breathable-air surrounding the station clung lamely to its surface, attempting to dry it. Slowly, the hatch at the very tiptop of the small ship flung outward, and True Baill's head popped urgently out.

Gray eyes scanning every corner with caution, she attempted to make certain that the area was clear of… well, whatever was down here. The giant room that the submersible had popped up into looked very similarly to the one that they had departed from – except for the struggle-apparent dents in the walls, the broken disarray of objects, and the upside-down half-missing submersible in the surfacing-area next to them. When she was completely convinced there was nothing horrible going on in the room around her, the scoundrel popped her head down to the others and opened her mouth to 'okay' it – but Canderous was far too impatient and shoved her the rest of the way out.

Yelping as she hit the slippery ground, True glared back at the Mandalorian as he made his way hurriedly out of the hatch with an extremely queasy expression. Lifting herself slowly off of the ground, wiping angrily at her newly soaked robes, the scoundrel peered about her, yet again noting the fallible station, with curiosity. Her ears strained for any sounds of life, but the only return in noise was the constant humming of the pipes and water. What could have caused such an apparent panic? And why was it so damn quiet? When the last person – Jolee – finally merged from the submersible, she turned back around to face her companions with a blatantly stone-cold expression. Canderous, wobbling slightly back and forth from seasickness, muttered something non-coherent that involved, "The floor" and "Is not level".

The scoundrel didn't know what they could expect to encounter. After completely re-composing themselves, the group unlatched all of their separate weapons and made cautiously for the only door in the room – leading most certainly into the heart of the underwater station. Indistinctively, True pushed against the center of the door quickly, and then somersaulted to the left of it alongside Bastila. Shoving herself flat against the wall, her and the young Jedi switched their lightsabers on and waited. When nothing came running out to kill them, True waved her hand commandingly towards Jolee, gesturing for him to go into the room. The old man raised his bushy eyebrows quickly and gave her the 'are you serious' look as he stood tautly on the opposite side of the gaping door, and then shot the gesture back at the scoundrel. True shook her head in return, stubbornly refusing to enter first. She tried getting Canderous to go in by gesturing at him next – but instead of going in, or even shooting it back at her like Jolee had, he gave a completely _different_ gesture. Bastila's jaw dropped, and True turned very red. _This is ridiculous…_

Randomly, amidst their silent argument, a green twi'lek's head then popped into view from inside the door. His misty blue eyes glanced around with terror.

True and Bastila screamed, Jolee and Canderous fumbled over each other, and HK-47 yelled, "Exclamation: ATTACK!" while raising his weapon.

The twi'lek man screamed with terror and ran back into the room.

"No! No, no, no!" True said quickly, with one hand clutching swiftly over her heart, and the other thrown into the air with a 'halt' towards the droid.

The group exchanged confused glances resembling many 'who in the name of the force was that' looks. True immediately dropped both of her hands and ran inside of the door, searching around for the twi'lek. She shortly there after found him (very obviously) crouched behind a footlocker in the far corner of the small room.

True rolled her eyes lightly and walked forward, kicking the footlocker aside with a loud clash. The twi'lek behind it screamed, yet again, and stared up at her with horror. It took him about five minutes to eventually calm down, and he finally capitulated his fear for her. He stood up very slowly and the pants covering his legs were very ripped and wet. The blue skin over his knees was bruised and bloody, and his limbs wobbled as he spoke with a very wavering voice of basic. "How… how did you get in!?" He stuttered, giving her a literality of three seconds to answer. "Quick… we have to get out of here. We have to leave!"

The scoundrel arched an eyebrow high in the air and threw her hands to her hips. "What happened here?"

The twi'leks blue eyes glanced nervously around to each member of the group in turn, and he shook his head wildly about sending his long tentacles in a disarray of panic. "No! No there isn't time! We have to leave…!"

True watched him for about a minute as he then proceeded to scramble around, grabbing up useless items such as empty medpacs, broken food containers, and something that resembled a fossilized piece of fodder. As her confusion in his actions finally surpassed, the scoundrel grasped him around the shoulders and shoved the Force slowly into his frenzied mind. "Why?" An immense wave of calm rushed over the twi'leks paled face – which, since he was blue, was more of a teal color –, and he breathed easily again.

A few moments passed, and he glanced miserably over towards a simmering and smoking door that appeared to be jammed shut. "I… I managed to close the door after they killed everyone else."

"Who?" Jolee quickly stammered as he and Bastila looked at each other with obvious horror.

The twi'leks eyes shifted onto the old man, and he shook his head again with misery while dropping all of his recent-accumulated items to the floor in a loud crash. "The Selkath. They went crazy! They started killing everything that moved. And then someone must have tampered with the defense systems, because the droid's started attacking too…" he backed slowly away during his horrific recollection of the allegory. "The others that I came down here with all took off in a submersible… b-but the Firaxan and… worse… I heard an explosion shortly after they left. They d-didn't make it. Just food f-for the sharks."

"Well," True started again, glancing over towards the twitching door. "I have to get in there."

As if the Force had completely warn off of him, the twi'lek launched forward and grabbed hold of True around her forearm, flinging her backwards as she made for the door. "NO!" He cried, falling to his knees in a shamble of tears. "I locked the door so that the Selkath wouldn't get in! If you open it, we're all done for!"

"Tough!" She replied tersely, wrenching her arm from his clammy grip. "I have to."

His eyes widened and the tears ceased. He switched from mourning to anger as if she had triggered an illusive meltdown button within his skull. "If you go in there, you're dead!" He glanced around at the others, who were gathered in a subdued group off to the left. "You're ALL dead!"

True opened her mouth to say something in retort, but Jolee lurched quickly over to the twi'lek, and waved his hand gently in the air above his head. Immediately, the alien fell to the floor in a snoring heap. The scoundrel glanced at the old man with distaste for his actions.

Canderous and Bastila stepped over the twi'lek with urgency and made for the door, and HK-47 jittered stiffly after them. The three disappeared through the exit way as the Mandalorian kicked it open with un-necessary force.

"That man," True started, glancing down upon his fallen body. "Was insane."

Jolee's eyes shot dangerously up to the scoundrel's face and his lip quivered up to a snare. "Let's see how _you_ react after watching everyone you know around you die!"

She simply shrugged her shoulders mercilessly into the air, and followed the others through the doorway that the twi'lek had so desperately _not_ wanted them to go through.

--

Drip.

The halls of the Hrakart Station were full of puddles, flashing broken lights, and dead bloodied-up bodies. To the left and right of the passageways there were three-inch-thick glass oval walls that wrapped up and over their heads, somewhat resembling that of a looking glass. Beyond the dripping hallways, in an extremely non-pleasant view from the center, hundreds of Firaxan sharks floated numbly around while staring upon them with a strong lack in enthusiasm. Other than the incessant dripping, which unnerved the scoundrel like hell, the only sound reverberating throughout the hallway was the continual rapping of HK's metal souls along the floor.

Drip.

As they ventured slowly down the hallways, True attempted to capitulate the continual images of her, in some random way, drowning. And _oh_, she had many different scenarios continually replaying inside of her mind. First there was the spontaneous glass-shattering scene, where water rushed in from all sides and engulfed her. Second there was the ever-popular door-opening situation, where Jolee would open a sealed door and unleash a giant wave of ocean. Thirdly was the Firaxan-rage, where the sharks would decide to break down the walls in a random fury. The last scenario was triggered mainly because of one particular shark that was contented to eerily follow after them as they descended deeper into the hallways.

Bastila stared unnervingly upon the shark as its giant glossy eyes glared emotionlessly down upon her. It was obvious to see that she was very nervous in the underground tunnels. It was obvious to also see everyone was nervous in the underground tunnels; though Canderous did his so very best to conceal it.

Drip.

This time the repetitive drop of water fell down upon the scoundrel's auburn hair, preceding to then splash down the back of her neck with a frozen trail. True shivered, and bat wildly at her back with the intentions of drying the spot. Another drop fell upon her head. She looked angrily upward and saw a long quivering crack in the upper glass ceiling; just before, of course, yet another drip tumbled down into her left eye. She swallowed a heavy fear… _I hate water._

Suddenly a loud splash emitted in the silent walkway.

True's face snapped down towards a giant puddle in the hall, and she chuckled as Bastila withdrew her foot from the water with a sneer. A short ways ahead of them, Canderous kicked in yet another door with a very loud crack. The scoundrel flinched. _Well anything that still lives inside of here will hear us coming… _Of course, she wasn't going to relay that thought to the Mandalorian – simply because he would probably just snarl at her, and refuse to listen or acknowledge. On the other side of the now wide-opened door there was a sickeningly long span of tightly closed doorways. True leaned lazily against the rims of the broken entrance and smirked as she watched Canderous continue to kick open doors while Bastila stood on tiptoes, glancing over his shoulder. He must have had some kind of enjoyment in kicking down doorways. The scoundrel shook her head and laughed to herself; _what would Carth say if he was with us?_

Carth. An assortment of painful jostling overcame the insides of the scoundrel's stomach, and she leaned more heavily into the unyielding wall. Before departing from the Republican Embassy submersible dock, the dark-haired pilot had hurriedly rushed up to the scoundrel with much of an undying urgency. At the time, the scoundrel had been so utterly taken aback at the sight of him that her own thoughts had ceased to precede. Carth had then continued on to have her promise she would be careful while adventuring around in the dangerous rift, and that he couldn't survive if he lost her. As quickly as he had said it, her jaw had twitched with the intentions of replying explicitly, but she had instead ended the horrifying moment by leaving without saying a word. True swallowed down the rising torment as she looked back onto the moment, feeling as horrible as her spirits could humanly allow. _Oh, gods… _The scoundrel buried her head deep into the soft fabric of her forearm, and internally beat herself to a pulp.

"Got something on your mind, have you?"

True lifted her head quickly and flipped her gaze around in a swift panoply of auburn waves. Her mouth gaped slightly as she stared into the dark eyes of Jolee Bindo, who in turn smiled with merriment at her shock. _How wonderfully cliché of him._ "Well, no. Not exactly."

The old man furrowed his brow. "Hmmm."

"What?" She snapped sharply. "Do you not believe me?"

"Well, no. Not exactly." He mocked, chuckling in amusement with himself.

True stared at him, very unfazed, and absolutely _thrilled_ that he was so cheery. "What do you want from me, old man?"

"Oh, nothing." Said Jolee, aghast. "You just resemble my wife whenever she has something horrible on her mind."

The scoundrel gave him a delusion-filled glance and shook her head scornfully. "You never really explained the whole wife situation, just so you know."

Jolee rubbed at his gray beard thoughtfully. "I don't want to talk about that."

True gave up the attempt to coddle him about his life, and rolled her eyes. _Oops…_

"Did you just…"

"No."

They were very silent, except for the loud clanging about of Canderous kicking at another door. Inwardly, True finally decided she might as well make herself useful, and she eased herself away from the wall making a slow and steady tread towards the remainder of sealed doors. She could sense Jolee shuffling irritably behind her.

"Alright, alright!" He finally grumbled, causing the scoundrel to turn inquiringly about.

"Er… I – I didn't say anyth-"

"Have you ever been in love?" He continued quickly over her. "Truly in love, I mean, and not simply infatuation."

True, utterly and completely flabbergasted by this, took in a sharp breath of air. "Well – er…"

"Exactly. You're still in the beginning of your life." He paused as the Mandalorian, yet again, kicked in another door. When the rattling of the wobbling medal against the ground ceased to a distant echo, he continued. "There will be men in your life… perhaps many men… but if you're fortunate you'll find love once."

Slowly True walked back towards Jolee with a caution in her step. Bastila glanced over towards them suspiciously, considered coming over, but then changed her mind as Canderous withdrew his blaster and started to shoot at an un-kickable door with frustration.

Jolee saw the Jedi glance over at him and continued on with his banter much more fervently. "The _Jedi_, with their damnable sense of over-caution, would tell you love is something to avoid. Thankfully, anyone who's even partially alive knows that's not true." He gestured momentarily towards Bastila, and True chuckled. "Love, itself, will save you. Not condemn you."

True knew the old man spoke of truth. The Jedi did have an erroneous idea about many things, and love was definitely one of them. She counter-visited the episode she had had with Juhani, who had rampaged all over her space in an attempt to sway her to believe that talking to Carth was a sin. However Carth, a man of whom True was utterly totally absolutely positively certain she did not love at all, was nothing to be concerned about… _right_?

"Love comes with much difficulty, but it is not something to be given up on. I suppose there are perfect, eternal loves out there… but I haven't seen any." He continued, drooping his shoulders with internal pain. "How you deal with love is what determines your character; and the Dark Side's hold over you."

True quirked an eyebrow at this, and put her hands slowly to her hips with a smirk. "You still haven't explained my initial question."

Jolee chuckled with much more light-heartedness towards it now. He took a few steps closer to the scoundrel, stuck his face very closely to her with a funny expression, and dropped his ranting voice just above a whisper. "I'll tell you one thing; sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you and the one you love just simply aren't meant to be together." He pulled his face away from her and continued to walk past her shoulder with a very a misanthropic expression. "Hmmph. There I go, speaking all philosophical. Somebody blast me before I start speaking in riddles!"

"Statement: Allow me, meatbag."

True stared after him in a disarray of confusion, but was completely distracted when Bastila yelped with a stage of horror. It came as little to no shock when Canderous eventually kicked open a final door, and was greeted by seven green and red blaster shots whirring past each of his ears. _That's what you get._ True thought with a quirky smile as she ran quickly into the room, skiing across the ground as she attempted to halt in urgency on the wet and slippery surface. Inside of the room was a lone six-legged droid with a giant red dome-shaped shield covering its entire body. The droid, shooting manically for their faces, clicked its head up and down in utter excitement upon their entrance.

Bastila and Jolee skid quickly across the floor and started beating down upon its shield with their glowing yellow and purple sabers. Sparks flew wildly across the slick tiles, dispersing immediately as they rolled into quaking puddles, and something strange flew past the two Jedi's bodies. The droid fell into a sizzling pile on the ground as they both turned around with bewilderment.

True stood about ten feet behind them with her hand stretched out, quivering with horror as she stared down at her fingers. A surge of lightning had just emanated from them – and it scared the Force out of her. Her eyes flashed quickly up to Jolee, who was chuckling at the look on her face, and Bastila batted her eyelashes in fury.

"You could have killed us!" The Jedi snapped angrily.

True locked her jaw. "I'm sorry, Arrogant, but I was just as shocked by that as you." _Back to this again…_

Bastila opened her mouth to say something, but was quickly covered up by Jolee. "Sometimes, when the Force starts to grow in you, it does strange things in the midst of battle."

"Well," Bastila started angrily. "_Mine_ has never acted like that. Nor have I ever shot lightning from my fingers… that is a trait of the Sith alone!"

True glanced down at her hands happily and snorted. Yet again, the sith had a strangely much more attractive style about them. _But how could I have accumulated a sith power?_

Canderous chuckled off from the side and walked quickly up to her, patting the scoundrel roughly on the shoulder. "She's just jealous, True."

--

After battling a countless number of droid's through the labyrinth disarray of hallways, the group stumbled across a circular room surrounded by seven tall black lockers. True, feeling the very last thing from disinclined to steal something from the deserted station, fumbled through each one with an urgency to uncover something of use. Sadly, to her more adhesive regret, she had only retracted three useless items that came of no help at all. She slowly walked toward the seventh and last one in the horseshoe arrangement, assuming it was also full of useless items, and yanked at the door. Didn't budge. She yanked again, more firmly. Didn't budge. She then angrily unclipped the red lightsaber from her hip and clicked it on… only to be widely taken aback by the merging sound of an inner voice.

The man inside, of whom was rather disinclined to come out, had a very jittery and fear-filled tone. He was very obviously horrified and convinced that True – no matter how many times she attempted to convince him that she was a Jedi – was going to die. Right now. Any minute now. How about … now?

Bastila (with her all-around 'goodness') had also attempted to make the man come out, shoving True aside with a very momentous-filled eye roll. However, she also - much to True's inner pleasure – failed miserably in trying to convince him. The two Jedi continued uselessly with all of their might to get him to come out, completely astray of Canderous opening another whirring door.

A mind-boggling yell of pain erupted from the Mandalorian's lips as a crazed Selkath lunged at him from the room beyond. HK-47 immediately shot the alien in the head and shuffled into the room to continue attacking the rest.

Bastila and True, completely caught off of their guard, quickly ascended after him while ignoring the locker-man's screams of, "SEE!? I TOLD YOU!!" from inside of his hiding spot.

The crazy Selkath strayed very far from the appearance of the ones still on the water's surface. These Selkath had strange hues of green upon their silky skin and had a horrific methodical-lacking gleam in their eyes. Aside from the fact that they were attacking each other upon the groups entry, it was extremely obvious to tell that these aliens had somehow shifted into tormented, malpractice individuals – whom had also somehow gotten their slime-filled hands onto particularly strange-shaped blasters, which emitted white shots of continual oval-wrapping spheres. Much to True's disappointment one of these shots managed to knick the side of her leg, searing through the fabric of her robe by a ranged attack.

When the five Selkath were finally all dead – greatly to the mitigation of HK who continued to shoot at their dead bodies until True kicked him in the leg – Jolee and Bastila rushed quickly over to the fallen Mandalorian. Canderous laid in desolation upon the cold ground, sneering in continual pain as the Jedi overlooked him with worry-swept expressions.

"Poison," Bastila finally mused aloud, after feeling Canderous' pulse through his fast-paling wrist.

Jolee embezzled momentarily through his thoughts and sighed with irrelevant aggravation. "Does anyone have any poison medpacs on them, by chance?"

True's eyes stared down upon her leg in irritation at the giant tear in her robes. "No," she started faintly, beginning to swat at the burning skin. "But I hear that you can suck poison out of a wound." A pious feeling swept through her body and she glanced quickly towards the two crouching Jedi.

"Well…" Canderous said weakly, managing to chuckle through the elated pain. "I will let you find the place he nicked me on your own, then…"

Jolee and Bastila stared at True with raised eyebrows, playing with disgusted terms of expressions. The scoundrel immediately threw her hands before her innocently. "Well Canderous, we had a good run – but it looks like you're going to die."

Everyone was overcome with an equal wave of relief when they finally managed to find a poison medpac lying in the bottom of a half-crunched footlocker – not necessarily because any of them cared about the Mandalorian's span of life, but more so because of watching someone 'suck' poison from a specially-placed wound was not on their list of to-do things.

Soon there after, much to their battle-exhausted disappointment, the group had sullenly come to a dead end. Or, it might be better stated; they came to the dead end of an _air-filled_ environment. True shivered as Jolee slowly walked into the small ovular room and picked up a heavy yellow-colored environmental suit. They all glanced around in separated turns, searching momentarily for another possible suit – or, in True's case, another possible way around venturing out into the dangerous ocean.

"Well," Jolee finally mumbled, rattling around the suit in his hands as he shrugged his nimble shoulders high into the air. "One of us will have to go out, and the rest will try to get past that stubborn door."

He was obviously referring to the inevitably locked entrance to the other side of the Hrakart Station, which could either be accessed through that door, or by exiting through an airlock into the Firaxan-filled Ocean. True shivered at the thought, while glancing over at Canderous who was still having aftermath quakes of his recent poison attack. _I hate water._

"Well," Said Bastila tersely, "it's inevitable that at least one of us goes out there, because the Star Map is somewhere on the rift."

True's heart clenched and she grit her teeth as the Jedi spoke. She was right – and it killed the scoundrel inside to admit it. The group all exchanged looks of confusion. HK-47 was too inept to fit inside of any kind of suit, and Canderous was far from out of the question… so it remained on the three Jedi. Jolee looked more then disinclined to go outside, and Bastila (aside from her usual jump at the chance to prove greatness) hallowed herself back into the shadows in a pathetic attempt to be hidden. True groaned and lurched towards the old man, snatching the environmental suit from his grip. "Right," she began while shoving an arm furiously into the yellow arm; the color distantly reminded her of Carth and his hideous jacket. "_I'll_ go, then."

They were all very silent.

The scoundrel paused in her dressing and flashed a distressed glare at them all. "Is no one going to say, _No, you can't possibly, let me go instead_?"

They all shook their heads.

_I hate water. _

--

"_Father, are you still awake?"_

_There was a loud shuffle of sheets. The man slowly sits up from his bed, wiping the back of his hand across his left eye. He glances down at his son with an inquiring stare. "What's wrong, Dustil?"_

_The boy standing in the doorway shuffles his feet around for a moment, and he slowly takes a staggering step into the room. His eyes flick cautiously onto the woman sleeping next to his father. "I can't sleep. I'm too worried."_

_The man's eyebrow arches high into the air. "Why is that?"_

_The boy takes another slow step forward. "You're leaving again tomorrow. Mother says… well… mother says that you won't be back for a long time."_

_The man shifts uncomfortably. He reaches an offering hand out towards his son. "Come here, Dustil." He waits to continue until the boy slips quickly through the darkness and snuggles onto the man's side. "I promise you I will be back before you know it."_

_The boy looks uncertain._

_The man reaches a hand underneath the boys chin and raises his face up to view into his small blue eyes; blue eyes like his mothers. "And, as soon as I get back, we'll leave Telos. Maybe we will move to somewhere like…"_

"_Manaan?"_

_The man chuckles. "Yeah. Like Manaan."_

_He still looks contentedly unconvinced as he buries his face into his father's chest. A small hand grip's tightly onto the man's shirt - with little intentions of ever letting go._

The pilot lay very stiff in his bed, staring with hazel eyes upon the silver ceiling of the Ebon Hawk. He had tossed aside all attempts of going to sleep after the dream and was now resulting in piercing continual glares at the morosely unattractive silver interior of the extremely still vessel. Usually, one would assume, a vessel with occupying inhabitance would be in orbit about the Galaxy, sifting its way to some un-known destination – especially if it is piloted by Carth Onasi, the decorated war hero of his time. But no. This ship would not lift off until its key-member Jedi returned… and it would stay in the docking bay of Ahto City for as long as that took to occur.

Carth had tossed back and forth for what seemed to be hours, attempting to promote any kind of emotion that sat on the very opposite side of worry. Quite frankly, much to the pilot's condemned despair, his mind would not settle until True Baill returned safely from her quest. It had truly been just about the first time they were apart for such an extension in time… and it slowly killed him inside. Sure, she was with four extremely capable individuals, but none of them cared for her as much as he did, or would fight for her as strongly as himself. Carth sighed angrily and he tossed yet again onto his side, clenching his eyelids together with frustration. _You know she would have taken you with, if you hadn't made such a big deal about Dustil. Bungling idiot…_It was notoriously difficult for Carth to prize his attention from anything other then these thoughts and the dream he had so recently awoken from in a cold sweat.

Dustil. If only he could see his son again, even if it was for a few minutes, the man would have such an over-powering settle of control over his horrible feelings.

An ear-piercing roar erupted from his left, and the pilot's eyes flashed open. He glanced momentarily onto the fuzz-covered wookie, which growled angrily at a very non-existent something as he dreamed. Carth raised a narrow eyebrow as the hairy-creature then proceeded to wiggle his toes as if he was running after something…

"Carth, are you still awake?"

A shiver ran down the pilot's spine as the very un-pleasant memory of his eight-year-old son flashed back into his mind. He shifted his weight quickly to the right and sat up with urgency. "What's wrong, Mission?" He said in a scruffy voice, rubbing the back of his hand across his drooping eye.

The blue twi'lek took an easy step into the room and smiled through the darkness towards the pilot. She glanced in embarrassment at the man's white under-shirt as the sheet fell quickly from below his chin. "I can't sleep. I'm too worried."

An unsettling surge of queasiness muffled about in the pit of Carth's stomach. "Why is that?"

Mission took another cautious step into the room. "It's just… I have this feeling something horrible is about to happen."

Carth flashed her a warm smile through the shadows and reached his hand out softly. "Come here, Mission." He waited for her to walk over and kneel down beside his bed before continuing. He placed his hand softly atop her head, running a hand over her smooth blue skin. "Everything will be fine."

Her innocence-filled eyes blinked unconvinced, but she sighed heavily with acceptance. They sat in silence for a long while, listening to Zaalbar grumble about in his exhaustion. Finally, Mission's tentacles twitched backwards in curiosity. "What was your son like?"

Carth choked at the random question – blatantly reminding himself that she was only a child. He gnawed momentarily on the question, searching for the easiest answer to her contention. In truth, he almost couldn't remember… "Well, he was a bit like you."

"Really?" Said Mission in a quirky tone.

The pilot chuckled and caved his head slightly forward. "Mmmhm."

"Well, then he must have been pretty cool, huh?" She said with a wide grin, nudging him lightly in the leg.

"Well, most kids your age are…"

"Hey. I 'aint no kid! I'm…" She paused to look up at his face and then retracted in embarrassment. "Oh. I get it. You're just kiddin'."

Carth chuckled again and glanced quizzically up towards the ceiling. His heart fell back into despair as he thought more strongly about how little he really knew about Dustil. How much he had missed out on…

"Y'know," The twi'lek continued in a warm voice, jerking the pilot's attention. "When I'm sad, I always feel better when I talk to my closest friend." She hooked her thumb in the direction of the wookie; drool ran slowly down from his hairy lip. "Big Z ain't much of an advice giver; but he'll always listen to me."

Carth watched the girl as she stood slowly from the side of his bed and walked quickly towards the doorway, where she halted to toss him a smile and small wave. "Maybe you should talk to _your_ closest friend, when she gets back." And with that being stated, she winked a small eyelid and disappeared down the hall.

--

Cautiously, she stepped out into the opening of the ocean.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Twenty yards away she could dimly see through the haze the environmental-suited figure of the man she had so recently exchanged brief moments of life with. He was lying in a crumbled heap on the ground. Twenty yards in the other direction lay a second man. No one else was anywhere to be seen – other then an intimidating large number of Firaxan sharks.

Slowly, nervously, she walked toward the body. It lay reassuringly still as she approached it, and continued to lie reassuringly still as she reached out with her foot and kicked him in the side. He was most certainly dead. Bending forward in the murky water, glancing around from her bubble-shaped helmet, True reached down and picked up the Sonic Emitter that still dangled from his limp fingers. The man had, in his short-lived experience, briefly described to her that he had a wonderful gun that did a wonderfully wonderful job at killing not-so-wonderful Firaxan sharks. Sadly, much to her horror, he had been quickly swept from the ground by a giant maw of sharp teeth and tossed ruthlessly to the side – but then the creature had mysteriously left.

True shivered as a prickling sensation soared up her left forearm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. _It was a trap_.

Lifting her arm as quickly as she could against the weight of the water, Sonic Emitter held firmly in her hand, the scoundrel shut her eyes tightly and turned her face away as she pulled forcefully at the trigger of the gun.

Silence.

With bitter leisure, True opened her eyes to the upside-down floating dead body of the shark. Her mouth gaped, and she refrained from jumping out in carouse. _It actually worked…_ The remainder of her journey went much more smoothly – though she still got a miniature panic every time she watched a Firaxan's hollowed body slip mercilessly towards her, jaws spread wide in a crave for her flesh.

Finally, after a long and gruelingly slow escapade through the mortifying waters, she reached the door that lead into the other side of the Hrakart Station. As she stepped quickly into the air-filled room, the scoundrel began to desperately throw her environmental suit off in a hurried rush, gasping for the air that the gods had so wonderfully blessed the world with. Why anyone would want to put a Star Map in an air-explicit, watery, danger filled environment was far beyond True's grasp of mind. What if, perhaps, someone needed to go back and retrieve information from the Star Map in the air-explicit, watery, danger filled environment? "Oh, by the way, the Star Map on Manaan is in an air-explicit, watery, danger filled environment. Any questions?" "Uhhhmuh??" "Yeah. Guess it wasn't that important anyway."

As True fumbled her last leg from the freedom of the yellow suit, she flashed up quickly in a numb shock to see herself standing in half of a room, staring at two extremely-horrified people. One was a dark skinned woman with short black-frilled hair, and the other was a slightly chubby placid-faced man. Between her and the others was a very thick purple and blue hued force field that shot a blinding pool of light onto the scoundrel's eyes as she squinted past it to better view them. She opened her mouth to speak –

"Kill them! Kill them now!"

And, just as soon as the sweet air had been replenished back into her lungs, it was quickly being sucked away as the man slammed down on a springy lever. The scoundrel's eyes widened in shock as she felt the compression begin, and she banged angrily against the door.

The man stared back at her in obsequious fear. "What! I can't let you in! The Firaxa… the Selkath… I - I can't let you in!"

The dark skinned woman then latched firmly onto his arm and drug him away.

TEN SECONDS TO COMPLETE DEPRESSURIZATION.

"Hey! HEY!" True slammed angrily against the force shield with clenched fists, watching the two as they disappeared behind a wall. _Oh, this is just priceless…_

Some two minutes later the pair of scientists, that had so crudely locked her to her assumption-filled doom, were utterly horrified to see the woman standing before them – somehow freed from the force shield. After she had blandly explained to them that they had left her alone with an all-access computer console – which they didn't find nearly as amusing as she did – they began to argue and banter among themselves of how they were to deal with the current situation. Much to True's inner irritation, she was well-informed about a giant Firaxan shark that had, more or less, caused the Selkath to go insane. In the end of the pointlessly droned-on conversation that had little to nothing to do with her, they both turned with heavy expressions toward the scoundrel.

So, here she was yet again, fumbling about in her wet environmental-suit, trying to decipher what exactly she was supposed to do. Her eyes blinked steadily as she stared down upon the bubbling computer consol, and she glanced to her right to stare at the Star Map that was so agonizingly far away, and finally up towards the giant Firaxan shark that floated in distress around the giant construction sights. She sighed heavily. She had two options; destroy the station and make the giant fish happy, or poison the giant fish, kill the giant fish, and more then less likely destroy all of the kolto production for the next twenty years.

The green flask in her hand, full of a poisonous and deadly toxin, seemed much heavier then it had before. Her fingers tightened menacingly about the glass, and she looked down upon it with deep thought. _Kill the fish, destroy the station, kill the fish, destroy the station…_

Decisions, decisions.

She glanced one more time up towards the giant shark as a piercing-cry fell from its maw. The scoundrel shuttered at the sight of giant boils protruding from its gills, clogging the passageway for the creatures watery-air. Perhaps she had gone this way for an ironic effect, since her own air had been slovenly ripped from her own lungs on numerous occasions during this particular part of the mission, or perhaps she just felt like making everything easier on herself by killing the giant shark in one clean (or not so clean) sweep. Either way, as soon as the poison had been transferred into the pipes, something deep and dark took a giant shifting tug at the scoundrel's heart.

As she walked slowly through the heavy waves of the ocean, True took the final few steps towards the Star Map with a rush of lustrous corruption. The small ball merged as weightless as usual, having no defiance with the dense water, and expanded into a much more luminous and literal pool of blue light. The scoundrel smiled with an eerily dark sneer upon her thin lips.

--

True sat very still in the center-most spot of her bed, mulling over the events that had just taken place. The vessel she was upon was moving quickly through the Galaxy, soaring in a frenzied disarray of confusion away from the planet that she was no longer aloud entry to.

The return to the surface was a mixture of emotion. One was prioritized mainly on making it through the water-adventure alive – and the other was based horribly on the fact that, as soon as they had made it to the surface, the Selkath had yet again dragged True to court with the intensions of slaughtering her. As soon as the whole encounter was finished, resulting in the scoundrel and her crew being completely banned from the entire planet due to her aspersion of absolutely ruining all of the kolto in the rift, True raged furiously down the halls of Ahto City. Perhaps she shouldn't have been so upset, since her head was still adjacently leveled upon her narrow shoulders, but there was a horrendous pain building in the back of her mind – and she wanted nothing more then to bask in her sleeping quarters of the Ebon Hawk.

Now, as she sat alone and in a silent muse, the scoundrel realized how extremely wrong her actions might have actually been. A Jedi would have _never_ killed off the monster and destroyed the kolto in the process. A Jedi would have thought about their actions more thoroughly and acted upon what was right as opposed to an act upon a whim of revenge. A Jedi would have destroyed the station, knowing that the whole process was ruining an already almost destroyed beauty of the planet. A Jedi would have _not_ done what she had. So, if she didn't follow by the ways of the Jedi… _Then what ways did I follow?_

True swallowed down the overwhelming expansion of anger that spread through her adjacent, with much resemblance to a wild fire. Her gray eyes slammed shut forcefully, and she sighed heavily while drooping her shoulders. A tingling sensation brushed across her cheek…

"True," came the thick-accented voice of the indelible Jedi.

The scoundrel made no movement of acknowledgment. "Mmm?"

"Something is troubling you."

True's eyes snapped open. The assumption-statement was of course correct, and she was almost taken aback before remember their strong bond. The scoundrel shuffled her feet from the bed and twisted in the direction of Bastila as she stood leniently in the doorway. "As well as you."

Bastila smirked slightly at the remark and bowed her head. The brown twists of her hair hung aloof her shoulders, and she shook them momentarily as a shiver ran down her back. "I asked you first."

True rolled her eyes coolly and took in a strong breath of air. "Nothing is troubling me, Bastila." She started, flicking her eyes upon the Jedi with an eerie expression. "I just feel… different."

"Different?" Bastila inured with quirked brows.

"Yes." The scoundrel snapped in blunt reply.

The Jedi shifted her weight heavily from one leg to the other and wavered at the indeterminate and vague thoughts that shadowed over her mind. She took a few steps closer to the scoundrel, and sat opposite her on the edge of a stiff cot. It creaked under her weight causing both of their ears to twitch with aggravation. "I'm worried about you. You feel cold to me. I feel like I'm losing you…"

"You're losing me? You feel like_ you're_ losing me?" Inquired True angrily.

"Well yes!" Bastila shot back tersely. "You haven't been acting the same as of late – and I'm worried you are feeding off of the Dark Side from your previous encounter with…" She cut herself quickly off, as if she was about to say something horribly revealing, and bat her eyelashes with inner shock. True blinked back, unfazed. "With Darth Bandon."

True shivered at the thought and glanced in perplexity towards the floor.

Darth Bandon had attacked her in the hallways of the Hrakart station, and proven to be an extremely difficult foe to face. At first he had caught the group completely off guard, seemingly covering her Force sensitivity to his encounter with his own Force susceptibility. But there was a huge difference between this fight with Malak's pawn and her previous ones faced. Instead of fighting the Sith Lord's Apprentice with the normal intensions of a true Jedi, the scoundrel had mercilessly cut him down with one very divergent main focus: redemption.

When True adequately failed to reply to her, Bastila continued, leaning slightly forward with a surprisingly concerned expression. "True, I just don't want you to follow down the same path that Revan had."

Silence.

Slowly, the Jedi stood back up, and made her way back for the door with a dissatisfied air, feeling that she had gotten no where fast.

The scoundrel's eyes pounced onto the Jedi's parting back with a fanciful countenance. Diversely, as if hearing nothing of what she had just stated, she raised herself tall and countered after her, "What does it mean if a non-Force adept helps you to see a vision?"

Bastila paused in the doorway; her paled hands placed softly against the sides of the panels. She turned her head slightly around, only allowing the scoundrel to view the narrow bone-structure of her profile. "What do you mean?"

True gnawed the inside of her cheek and hammered about in her mind before venturing onward. She had felt that the question was rather _bluntly_ obvious. "I mean, what does it mean if a normal person helps you recollect a vision. Like, by touching someone or… hugging them… or smacking them or something." She made certain to mumble the 'hugging' part in a half-cough sort of way at any and all attempts at shielding it.

"Someone who is… not Force adept?" The Jedi asked. True nodded, and Bastila distorted her face in heavy thought. "I suppose it would mean you have some kind of strong attachment to that person. Perhaps infatuation or love… why?"

True brushed her tongue lazily over her teeth, extremely eradicated by this easeful answer. Slowly she retracted her legs back onto the bed, placed her hands behind her auburn head of hair, and leaned surreptitiously against the silvered walls of the Ebon Hawk. "No reason." _Oh gods..._

--

Carth's head lulled slowly forward and his eyes drooped in an implausible attempt at sleep.

Then suddenly, as if the computer had known he was about to make a huge mistake, it beeped loudly and corruptly as the pilot's head wobbled inches from the console. The man jerked his head back with suddenness, and he kicked the inside of his leg in annoyance. He shouldn't fall asleep. He _couldn't_ fall asleep; they would all die if he fell asleep.

Blinking his eyes with apparent deception, Carth leaned back in his chair and exhaled with a loud eruption of grunts. He had gotten barely any sleep in his encounter on this mission, and was confounded by the constant wonder as to why no one else could man the front of the ship – even for an hour, or two. Grumblingly lightly at his obvious baloney, the pilot pressed his back even more firmly into the reclining rest of the chair and settled his hazel eyes softly upon the vortex of quick-passing stars. He toyed with the option of jumping to hyperspace; but that would require an immense amount of awareness, and he felt slightly as if he had spent the last three hours of his life drowning sorrows away in a giant-sized bottle of Terisian Ale. A low beep emitted from the computer, and he thought in that moment of his life he might in fact go crazy.

Something chirped happily below his feet, and the pilot lulled his eyes quickly to the ground with apprehension. The Gizka bobbed its head up and down in a reprehensible attempt to be picked up. Carth leaned slowly forward in the chair, propping both of his elbows on his knees as he stared blankly down upon the pathetically cute creature. _Oh no. Not this again._

"If I continue to come in here, and see you staring with delight upon that Gizka, I'm going to stop coming to the Bridge while you're in it…"

Carth's eyes snapped quickly towards the familiar voice with a giant overwhelming rush of embarrassment. He watched her in bewildering silence as the scoundrel, small and innocent, stared at the illumines Galaxy Map while running an absent-minded finger along the course from Manaan to Korriban.

Feeling his gaze lingering upon her body, True's gray eyes flashed warningly onto the pilot who sat imperturbable in his chair. "I'm serious. It's creepy."

Shaking his head about, jostling his fantasizing mind back to reality, Carth chuckled in reply. "Well, that Gizka is the only company I have this late at night." He started, pushing himself in urgency from the heavy chair, and stretching his arms high into the air. When finished with his finicky attempt at waking, he stared upon her inquiringly. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

True threw her hands to her hips and scoffed at him lightly. "Mission told me you wanted to talk."

Carth squared his shoulders firmly. _That little conniving… _"Oh she did, did she?"

True nodded numbly and leaned her shoulder lazily into the Galaxy Map, stiffing a yawn. "Said something about you and worrying about your son… or something."

Carth stiffened incredibly. Glaring upon her with malicious eyes, he turned completely around on his heel to face back out towards the stars. His heart rushed to the lowest chamber of his stomach and smacked to the bottom with an echoing pang.

True winced at her heartless words as they tumbled from her mouth, watching the man become overshadowed with sorrow as he turned completely away. She recoiled herself back from smacking her head against the Galaxy Map, and then briskly shoved herself away from the cold wall. Steadily, quietly, she walked up to his stiff back and reached a hand up to his right shoulder, standing with her chest close to the arch of his spine.

Carth's body melted under her touch, branching down from the skin on his shoulder below her warm hand to the rest of his body with a rush of furious but wonderful release.

"I'll make finding Dustil my first priority, as soon as we get to Korriban." Her voice said in reassurance, just above a whisper.

"No," The pilot said sprightly, snatching her hand quickly from his shoulder and snapping about to face her. His face creased into a warm smile as he then proceeded to intertwine his strong fingers into her small thinner ones. "You should make saving the Galaxy your first priority, beautfiul."

The Bridge was very quiet.

Time seemed to stop.

True glanced with sparklingly uncertain eyes down upon her hand that was grasped so tightly inside of his, and she shivered with a quaking pleasure. It felt so _so_ right… "Saving the Galaxy has been my first priority for quite some time. You're my closest friend, Onasi. The least I can do is show you how much I appreciate yo-"

"I'm so glad you stayed with this mission." His free hand fell softly over the scoundrel's thin lips, silencing her to the continual banter. His eyes wandered over her face with wonderment and he smiled wider then before. "I don't know where I would be without you."

True's stomach flopped, and she almost had forgotten how to breathe.

Then, with such a suddenness that it flew the scoundrel's face deep into the pilot's chest, the Ebon Hawk quaked and screamed in pain. True and Carth fell to the floor while the computer consoles beeped and screeched with warning as the ship shook again, and they slid to the opposite side of the Bridge in a painful heap of limbs. Carth managed to help True to her feet before hurtling himself with force into the chair, tapping manically at the computer console's screen in confusion.

"What's going on!?" Bastila screeched from the hallway as she scuttled in with urgency, skiing across the floor.

"Sith Interdictor Ship. They must have been waiting for us on the hyperspace route. We're caught in their tractor beam." Carth retorted quickly as his eyes searched helplessly across the flashing screens. His rough hands tapped at some useless buttons and pulled at some equally useless knobs in a pathetically useless attempt to fix the useless problem.

"Well which ship is it!!" Bastila yelled back angrily, pressing and pulling at equally as many lame buttons as she could manage to put her hands on.

When it became very obvious there was nothing they could do, Carth folded his arms tightly across his chest and leaned back with a smirk; his jaw tightening and releasing in anger."It's the Leviathan. Saul Karath's vessel..." _Revenge at last. _"My old mentor."

True's mouth gaped slightly while she stared onto the computer screen in shock at their rapid approach to the huge ship, as it slowly sucked them into its grasp. "So here we are," she said lightly, walking up behing the pilot's seat and placing her hands firmly onto the back. "Straight onto the precipice."

--

**PROBABLY WILL EDIT THIS.  
I apologize for this update being in such shambles – but I wrote it in a day and a half, hoping to get an update after spending a weekend with wack-o lil' cousins. Hope you all enjoyed it for what it's worth.  
Read and Review! :)**


	7. Mistaken Identity

**Lucifer Yaway: **I'm glad you enjoyed that chapter – cause I sure didn't! Haha. Yeah, HK is one of my favorites to write, because he already has that humorous personality in the game. I'm pleased you liked the interlude with Carth and Mission… I wanted to have some kind of softness come out in the pilot that hadn't been seen before. Either way… things get pretty interesting in this chapter, so I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for the review. :)

**Trans 7.4.7 Formers: **Ohhh don't even worry about it – reviews are pointless anyway, I suppose, as long as you enjoyed it! I'm so glad that you have read the entire thing and liked it so far… hopefully you will be pleased with this new chapter as well! Haha, oh and yes, I'm slightly crazy with the writing; wrote this monstrous chapter in two and half days… get that. Lol. BTW: Transformers is amazing ;)

--

**Title: A Knights Tale**

**Rating: PG-13 **

**Chapter Summary: **Leviathan. The large Sith Vessel that has captured the Ebon Hawk and her crew turns out to be the most difficult encounter the group has yet faced. In-depth battles, breaking and forming of friendships, and a hidden identity finally revealed…

**Disclaimer: **No on is mine, as pointless as it is to state anymore. :(

**Author's Note:** I wanted to show in this chapter how much all of the characters are starting to grow together; at least the ones such as Mission, Juhani, Canderous, Jolee, and HK. Whereas, Carth and True are wavering along the line of friendship in the beginning of this chapter, and then sullenly dropped to a stage of - (well you'll have to read to find out) - by the end of the chapter. Kind of wanted to show the relationships that are forming between the crew.

BTW: I just realized that none of you know whether I'm going _Light_ Side or **Dark** Side with this plot. Oh me, oh my. ha. :P

_**Mistaken Identity**_

--

"**Master versus apprentice – as it was meant to be!"**

The Ebon Hawk lulled slowly through the air, at somewhat of a slanted appearance, flying steadily in the direction of the giant vessel named; The Leviathan. The Leviathan was a particularly strangely shaped vessel, resembling that of a crab's claw, and decorated with an unsatisfying color of stone gray. Its exterior, however uninviting as it appeared, was nothing to the disastrous horrors that awaited inside. The Galaxy surrounding was deathly quiet, and the intertwining duel ships were equally as quiet – leaving fair room to assume that it was a calm and surreal gathering of two foe ships, though it was not.

Inside of the vessel by the name of the Ebon Hawk, at a velocity of god knows what, a foot tapped irritably before the large window of the Bridge. The gray eyes of the owner semi-clashed against the glowing exterior of the Leviathan, narrowing in upon the ship with bitter distaste. The foot began to tap more rapidly as bickering voices from within the center of the Ebon Hawk, far behind this particular studier, grew louder and more desperate. It was apparent at this point that all hope of instantaneous escape was far from lost, replaced instead by an inevitable capturing to shortly take place. The woman grunted and leaned forward onto the computer module, bowing her head forward with regret. Somewhat, it was something all of the ten members of the remaining crew had foreseen happening; due to the simple fact that as soon as Malak ran out of pawns to throw in their direction, he would have to deal with matters in his own personal hands. As such, the current situation was steadily turning into tribulation.

Malak. As far as True Baill knew, he was after one thing and one thing alone, and that _thing_ was Bastila Shan and her overpowering gift of battle meditation. Malak, the Lord of the Sith, was seeking their ship out only for the mere chance of an advance in power; though, as the scoundrel foresaw it, he would have one hell of a time trying to break the Padawan to the Dark Side. She was, as notably stated, extremely gifted in the act of stubborn, and was not in any state of mind to go sifting her ways to anything other than Jedi. But still, the betraying Sith Lord had captured them, and was already one step closer to reaching his goal.

True pressed the palms of her hands firmly into the cool-surfaced console and watched with vehement eyes as the computer counted down the scrupulous amount of time remaining before the vessels connected. Her face turned as white as snow as she stared quizzically down upon the blinking number that counted down with an alarmingly rapid pace. One minute until Sith troops would march up the loading ramp… fifty nine minutes… fifty eight… _Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale…_

A frozen wisp of cold ran down the scoundrel's spine in a superlative air as the Ebon Hawk was finally sucked into the Sith ship. She exhaled heavily, took one last-long hard glance at the now latched-on interior of the vessel, and then turned quickly about on her heel, sending a furious current of black robes to smack against the module. In response to this, the computer hummed angrily after her as she left with a distressed sense of merit.

Upon almost entering the center room, where all of her companions former bickering had subsided in an urgency of spasmodic, she slowed her pace incredibly to a creep. Something was strangely wrong. Flattening herself against the wall of hallway, True poked her head out with compressed eyebrows that crinkled the center of her forehead. Inside of the room, tossing aside everything legible to move, five Sith troopers forged around in a small band with anticipating blasters. The scoundrel coughed lightly and entered into the room slyly, pressing her feet firmly into the ground with crossed sulking arms. Instantaneously to this, five guns shot up towards the woman's direction as the Sith stared upon her with a mixture of shock and erroneous fear.

They lingered in silence, stiff arms held before them, waiting for her to throw-down some 'Jedi powers' – or something along the lines.

Amused, the scoundrel raised the corners of her mouth into a small smirk and shook her auburn hair slowly about her attenuated shoulders. "Boo."

The interior of the Leviathan was dark silver, lined with millions of narrow red lights that stuttered and blinked as hundreds of computer modules sucked up the remaining power of the vessel. Shining Sith robes were occupied by hundreds of men that marched around the corridors, flashing menacing looks upon the crew as they were hustled callously down the hallways – being separated accordingly as they were sorted out by dying, wounded, old, and snappish. A chilling evil waved throughout each of their souls, waning them deafly to the sense of something horrible approaching.

Inside of a Detention Area in the farthest corridor of the ship, three holding cells sat with three stripped-down key members of the Ebon Hawk. Bastila Shan, Carth Onasi, and True Baill stood in their underwear – yet again – staring blankly down upon the surroundings of their current dilemma. In the corner of the neutralized room there was one lone Sith trooper, who tapped lazily at a computer module that sat molded within the side of the silver wall. What he was doing, none of them knew, but the scoundrel had given herself an attractive visual of him looking at inappropriate things or playing assorted video games… but, hey, it passed the time away. The scoundrel had even attempted using Force persuasion once or twice, commanding in a monotone voice, "You will give me my clothes back…" but it ceased to prove successful.

After what seemed to be hours of silent cogitation, two huge doors zipped suddenly open, revealing an accurately attired Sith Admiral. This man had shining hair, graying skin, and a tightly fit uniform that was the least thing from easy on the eyes. His cheeks were worn down with elongated scars and the tip of his nose hooked inward in an attempt to poke him in the mouth. He moved from the center of the door and circled around to them. As he came into the light they could see his black and gold uniform on which the buttons were so highly polished that they shone with an intensity that would have made an approaching pod flash his lights in annoyance. While he moved slowly about, the three captives stared upon him with curiosity as he made his way lazily around the room, pausing to glance at the screen of the computer module. He finally stopped a few feet before their cells with two broad hands crossed before him in fake morality.

As he eyed each of the three carefully (taking fair time to examine Bastila and True's lack-there-of in outfits), his light blue eyes brightened up in a remarkable stature as he glanced with intensity upon the disgruntled pilot. "Carth Onasi." He started with a lowly chuckle. "I see the years have not been so kind to you – you look horrible. I barely even recognize you."

Carth clenched his left fist with childish impulses and flared his nostrils angrily. The stone-hard expression sitting narrowly within his hazel eyes was as intimidating as that of a crazed Selkath. "But I recognize you, Saul. I see your face almost every night in my sleep… as I promise myself I will kill you for what you have done to my home world."

"Did you learn nothing in your time under me?" Saul retorted tersely, bearing his sights upon the man with distaste. "It was war – and as a soldier you should understand that such… well, such _casualties_ were unavoidable."

"Casualties!?" Carth prompted with a newly stimulated stir. "You bombed an entire planet without warning! Thousands of innocent people's blood is on your hands, Saul! You betrayed us all!"

Saul released his hands from their clasp and rubbed absentmindedly at his forearm, considering the pilot's meek words. There was a strange tension that mingled in the air, nipping playfully along the bare skin of their bodies, and charring the internal soul that remained whole inside each of them. "You used to be a man of action, Onasi, not of empty words. Cling to your lust for revenge if you must, but spare me your tired threats – "

"Tired threats?" Carth said in erratic response. He leaned forward as far as he could in the cell, and glared with an intensity of vibroswords down upon the scrawny admiral. "Drop this barrier and we'll see just how _tired_ my threats are."

For a moment, Saul almost looked intimidated by the threat, and he jerked his head slightly with an apparent sense of fear. Then, with as much necessity that he could muster, the admiral leaned the arch of his back as far as it would go and laughed with a full bellow. As he did so, he managed to glance angrily upon the silent Sith trooper in the corner, who began to laugh also – as to avoid inducing something horrible. "Onasi, Onasi, Onasi. I thought you were here to stop our little destruction spree – but now I see you are only here to avenge what has already been destroyed." Wiping a tear that trickled slowly down the corner of his wrinkled eye, the man continued on with less glee and amusement in his charred voice. "That is the first step to the Dark Side, you see? Impulses driven mainly by anger and hate… you should feed off of those feelings, Carth. You could be a great alignment for the Sith! I could even get you a fine position by my side – just like old times… if you would only consider…"

"I would never betray the Republic and join with the – "

"Ah but wait," Saul chimed in with a sickening supposition, raising his hand with a 'halt' gesture. "Remember what happened last time I offered you this opportunity? You refused – and if you hadn't, perhaps your wife would still be alive today." Watching the sorrowful sweep of remembrance brush across the pilot's face, the man continued in his low and battle-warn voice. "Rumor even has it that your son has acquired some sense of mind and chosen to align with us…"

Carth's clenched fists slammed furiously against the force field of his cell, sending small sparks of light to tumble from the exterior of the cage and skii across the simmering floor. As his tightened skin braced the field, however, the pilot recoiled his hand in pain as an electrical gush billowed through the veins of his arm.

Saul faltered himself immediately, watching the sparks thoughtfully as they skid down the slick tiles toward his feet. His blue tinted eyes were momentarily illuminated by the small clashes, and then they flashed back up to the pilot. He chuckled lightly as he examined Carth swatting his hand miserably to the side with tremors of pain, still managing to glaring down scornfully upon the admiral. "No? Well, I assumed as much." The man continued with a depressing exchange of drooped shouldes. His gaze then transferred towards Bastila and he took a crisp step to the left, grinning with anticipation. "Perhaps your companions here can be of some use, then."

Bastila's mouth gaped in shame and she threw her fist in the air for a pathetic attempt on emphasis. "We will never serve Malak or the Dark Side!" She stated haughtily. "The Sith will be destroyed, Admiral Karath… and so will you if you don't turn away from this path."

True glanced at the woman with disbelief and reminded herself sternly to refrain from rolling her gray eyes, or saying her thoughts outloud, _Oh yes, Bastila, turn the evil Sith Admiral to the light side._

_/No one is without redemption, True!/ _

The scoundrel's eyes widened as Bastila's voice echoed in shambles about her skull, entering into her mind and scolding her. True hadn't even known that was possible to do…

_How did you get into my head!?_

_/It's not that difficult./_

_How long have you been in there?_

_/Not long./_

_Well… you… bu –_

_/Watch out./_

It was all too late when she realized Saul was standing now before her, glancing up her naked abdomen with an intense exactitude of curiosity. "Well how about you, then?"

"Well," True started, dwindling her eyes as she stared across her nearly-bare chest down upon the man. "If you give me my clothes back, I can probably be convinced to join the Sith."

"You know, I could just kill you once and for all." Saul said with dire disappointment in her choice. "But The Dark Lord may want to question you given the trouble you've caused him…" Saul paused to shake his head slowly and smirk, light eyes glancing un-appreciatively over areas of the scoundrel's body that she would prefer he wouldn't, causing Carth to tense incredibly. "And the _history_ between you two."

Bastila sucked in a quick breath of air.

"History?" True snapped instantly, raising an eyebrow high into the air. "Admiral, I have never even seen Malak before in my life."

Saul's smile faded instantly, and his eyes flashed back up to the scoundrel's face from – well – you know. "You… you mean you don't remember? This can't be true…" He took a moment to stare long and hard at her eyes, as if waiting for her to exclaim 'haha jk!?' but… she never did, so he continued on in utter disturbance. "Well, I won't be the one to deprive Malak of the pleasure of telling you himself."

True felt Bastila exhale the long held-in breath of air that she had painfully sucked in, and her chest depleted with relaxation. The scoundrel glanced inquiringly towards the Jedi, but the dark-haired woman shot her purple eyes to the ground with fake curiosity, avoiding the inevitable encounter.

"Sir?" Said the Sith trooper standing next to the module in the corner, with a surprisingly high-pitched voice. All three prisoners glanced towards the man with shock, and True bit down on her tongue as a laugh merged up through her throat.

Admiral Karath half-turned towards the man with apparent annoyance. "Yes?"

"Lord Malak is in another sector, and it may be some time before he arrives."

The Admiral turned his attention back towards the captives, now smiling as wide as his aging face would allow. "Well then I suppose I will have to fill in for him." His eyes flashed one more time down upon the scoundrel's body, giving her the redacting thought that perhaps she should try the same tactics with him that she had with the man on Tatooine… "Activate the torture fields."

Burning, stinging, agonizing pain shot through all three of their bodies with malformed twists in their limbs, as electric surges plummeted up through the bare skin of their feet and intertwined around their veins. True screamed with such intensity that it echoed down the halls for miles and miles, and she hardly noticed her two companions yelping alongside her. With the swift raise and drop of Saul's hand, the torture stopped, and the man in the corner leaned innocently against the module with amusement. True's eyes, weak and full of stinging tears, glanced upon the shiny armor with a much more renowned appreciation. S_o that's what he's there for…_

"Now," the Admiral began again, shifting his feet about with merriment. "Perhaps you will answer a few of my questions?"

"Save… your breath, Saul! We … we won't answer a-any of your… questions!" Carth said through heavy intakes of air, doubling forward with his right arm tucked steadily around his tense and aching stomach.

"Well I know _you_ won't – however your friend's loyalties in the past have proven to be somewhat…" his eyes sparkled upon True again, and he raised an eyebrow with lustful longing. "Flexible."

True staggered around in her holding cell, staring through the ripples of her waving hair upon the nomadic man – giving him an equally itinerant glare. "I'm not you, Saul. And quite frankly I'm not anywhere near as hideous looking, either …"

"Silence!" Saul roared angrily. "We will test your loyalty in the way I figure is best. I doubt torturing you personally will gain me your full cooperation - your will is too strong to be broken that way." He said in a husky voice, peering at the pilot with a sadistic sneer. "However, even the strongest of heroes has trouble watching the ones they care about suffering."

True followed the Admiral's gaze and her glare dropped immediately. She straightened her back in a snap, forgetting all melodramatic pain that lingered among her skin, and flicked her eyes back upon Saul with amateur fear. "No. No, don't hurt Carth. I – I beg you." _Why, why, why._ Why True cared so heavily upon the idea of Carth suffered was far beyond any length she could personally grasp – but low and behold, it bothered her. Saul Karath was correct.

"My pain is meaningless, True Baill! You tell him nothing!" Carth snapped back, staring upon her with a tensely-commanding eye from behind his twin stray of hairs. A cold shadow fell across his paling face as he spoke and it sent a horrified chill up the ridge of the scoundrel's bare arms, leaving slow tendrils of pain in its wake. The scoundrel's gray eyes stared desperately into his desolate brown ones, and the duo exchanged looks of differentiation in their silent muse.

"I can't allow you to suffer because of the choices I make, Carth."

"Listen, sister! This is a bit bigger then just you and I, now. You do what's right for the republic and the Galaxy – not for me!"

"Do not tell me what is right and wrong, Onasi! "

"I'm not telling you what's right and wrong, I'm telling you to not care about me."

"Who said I give a damn about you?! I only care about someone else paying for my choices." Lies. She was lying through her gritted teeth.

Carth's mouth fell open to retort, slightly from pain, but he sucked it in and continued on with a much more levelheaded tone. "Well do yourself a favor and _don't_. Someone is going to pay either way, sister – whether it's me, or hundreds of innocent peop-"

"Stop trying to be the war hero, Pilot!"

"Ohh, mmmm! If you weren't the most _frustrating_ woman I have ever met in my life!"

"Enough! I tire of these games," Saul said tersely, swapping his eyes back and forth between True and Carth as they bickered with the sententious redemption of a married couple. "Now I want answers! On what planet is the Jedi Academy at which you were trained?"

True's eyes narrowed in on the Admiral with sullen hatred. She wanted nothing more then to break through the force field, kick him in the neck, and spit in his mouth… though; perhaps that was taking it a bit to the drastic side. Her ears perked with forlorn appetency as his dark voice mauled her for answers. _Dantooine… It's on Dantooine… oh, damnit Onasi… _"Alderaan. It's on Alderaan."

"No, it is not!" Saul said with a voice of acidic smoothness, while raising his arm high into the air.

Immediately adjacent to this, a sudden inhuman wail of terror emanated from Carth as of a man having his soul burned from his body.

True stared with fear and her blood seemed to turn to liquid helium.

"See what happens when you try to defy me?" Saul said with an amalgam of anger and amusement – which appeared as a freakishly strange combination. "That was a test. Of course Malak knew that the Academy was on Dantooine. It has since been destroyed by our fleet."

True's jaw dropped to accuse him of being a liar – but something distant and foreboding tugged at her senses and told her that he was indeed correct. A horrendous weight of nothingness fell atop of the scoundrel's chest, drooping her heart to the pit of her stomach with a horrifyingly overwhelming operandi. All of the Jedi Masters, all of the Padawan's, all of the innocent people of the surrounding town… all gone? True swallowed down her rising anger and dug the tips of her fingernails into the overheating palm of her hand.

"Now, how were the Jedi planning on using you to stop Lord Malak and our Sith armada?" Saul continued to inquire, while picking at something nonexistent underneath his short, blackened fingernail.

True gnawed the inside of her cheek and shifted uncomfortably. _Star Forge. We came looking for the Star Forge. _"We… we came to kill Lord Malak."

Saul brushed an un-approving tongue across the front of his teeth, and breathed through his nose with annoyance. "Lies. The Jedi do not assassinate people." He raised his eyes sharply from his busied fingers, and he smirked a toothy grin – showing a fine layer of yellowed and crooked teeth. "Perhaps you need a reminder of the consequences of refusing to cooperate."

True's eyes widened and she thrust a hand desperately yet pointlessly forward "Wait! NO!" But it was too late…

Carth writhed in pain, jerking around and grabbing at his head with such immense agony that tears fell down from the corners of his eyes and stung the burning skin of his cheeks. The scoundrel's face sulked into a fair shade of placid as the ignorant and thickheaded pilot fell to a sickening length upon his knees, clutching handfuls of his dark hair with misery and torment. Part of her felt he disserved it; after all, he did want her to lie about everything. And yet, the still remaining sweet and over-protective side of her spirits reached out to him in longing for the suffering to subside, as small tears of sorrow formed from the center of her bottom lids as well – though she was not sure as to why…

"Listen? Can you not hear him screaming? You could save him the pain by simply answering my questions, Jedi."

True's eyes glistened with shivering pools of water, a thick wall of anger forming before her face. If Carth didn't kill the admiral tonight, then she would. "You are a sick and twisted man, Saul Karath."

"Perhaps another lesson is in order?"

"No!" She screamed desperately. "No – I-I'll tell you what we were doing!"

Saul paused with his hand held stiffly in the air, an assiduous smile creeping up to the corners of his face. "Go on."

"We…" True sucked in a deep breath of air, contemplating her options while her gray eyes bore steadily down onto the man's stiffened arm. "We were searching for the St-"

"TRUE!!" Bastila's voice bellowed over her. Unsatisfied by this, Admiral Karath dropped his arm furiously.

Once again, Carth twitched and jittered with the paroxysm of a thousand watts of electricity running through every inch of his body. His abdominal muscles, tensing tightly against the light fabric of his under-amour, flexed and retracted with notable pain. His gracefully carved arms quivered and twitched with every jolt of pain that shot morosely up through his tendons, leaving simmers of pain in its trail.

True winced and breathed with heavy nuance. She had not wanted any of this, this of all things she had wanted nothing of – and yet, the Force had brought her here, thrown her into this cell – into this situation – and was now torturing her for some unbeknownst reason. A small hardly-noticed tear tumbled down the golden skin of her cheek, and a small spark of light emitted from the tips of her fingers. Silent fury welded in the core of her stomach, uselessly branching down the veins of her arms. The scoundrel's mind flashed instantly back onto her conversation with Bastila and she quaked with a strong overlaps of queasiness.

"I am surprised he has lasted his long," Saul mused just above a whisper, drawing the woman's attention back onto him. "Most people would have passed out by now… Ah well, either way, apparently I'm getting no where with this," the Sith admiral turned quickly around, digging his black heels into the dense and rigid tiles of the floor while heading for the door. "When Malak arrives you will learn just how merciful my tactics are."

True opened her mouth to yell, scream, holler after him…

A sudden surge of pain.

Darkness.

--

Two yellow cat-shaped eyes peered from around the silver corner, examining the predicament of the situation. A heavy-armored Sith's boot marched rhythmically down the hall, relapsing his footsteps for what appeared to be the fifth time. The woman glancing eerily upon him, unbeknownst to him (but quite 'knownst' to her), recoiled her half-sneaking face from behind the wall and exhaled silently. At first, things had gone rather smoothly for the Cathar; but now, as she stood as an invisible haze against the wall, the white-skinned Juhani was bitterly alone in the mazeing mess of hallways, waiting (hoping) to run into one of her companions. However so far all she had managed to 'run into' was a Sith – literally – who had fallen onto his rear with quite an astounded 'ooph' and nearly shot himself in the foot with surprise. Greatly amused by this encounter, the Cathar had the man around for what seemed to be three hours, watching him mutter and sputter things to his fellow Trooper's that encircled greatly around "there's a ghost on the ship" and "I run into dead people".

When the Troops had initially boarded onto the small vessel named the Ebon Hawk, they had flounced around in erroneous assumption that – after they had towed away all of the others – no one remained inside of the ship. She was lucky enough to have a lazy and mundane Sith Trooper search the cargo hold briefly, only becoming clemently interested when she had accidentally knocked aside a small case full of medpacs during her invisible stutter-step as to avoid smacking into this particular man's chest. Nonetheless he was a very low-profile man with a seemingly slow working mind, so he left the room finally with the slender reassurance that it was empty. Shortly thereafter, Juhani had slipped silently from the vessel and ran her fading body onto the Leviathan with little to no hesitation.

If things were to continue as planned, five members of the crew were to meet up in the end, then scamper onwards to rescue the others. Canderous was to be assumed as dead by self-made wounds and then left in a pile of lifeless bodies, waiting silently until the coast was clear for him to venture out. Jolee was going to meddle with the minds of his captures, if lucky, and be able to scamper around with the option of captivity. Mission was going to attempt to tamper with the patients of the Sith who held her, hoping to shamble their minds to such ranges of fury that she could find a liable way of escape. And finally there was HK, who was supposed to retreat from the junk-heap after presumably being a broken-down piece of rubbage, and then regroup with the others as soon as his shutdown sequence surpassed.

As it were, however, only one member of the group had successfully kept to their plan.

Now, as she stood numbly amidst the interior of the giant ship, with no amusement or sense of direction, Juhani slowly slid her back down the broadened wall and jettisoned all attempts of attacking any more Troopers. She was, after all, weaponless, companionless, and morally disabled from taking any more silent turns along bitter-endless hallways in ridiculous endeavors to escape blaster shots. The Cathar tucked her dry lips momentarily into her mouth in an effort to wet them, and then watched an auxiliary droid whir past her foot while threatening to skid over her toes. She grimaced slightly at the image, and then focused her attention onto the sound of three Sith Troopers making their way down the echoing hallway.

Leaning her see-through skin towards the edge of the wall, Juhani glanced narrowly down the walkway towards two Sith Troopers ambling with urgency towards what appeared to be a Sith Commander. All three of the men held heavy black-glinting blasters that shone almost as bright as the exterior of their silver Sithy uniforms, practically blinding the Cathar's eyes in their momentary gathering.

"Bastila, Carth, and most of the crew have been taken prisoner as you ordered, commander!" The shortest of the three men said in a deep tone as they met sullenly in the middle of the hallway.

"Excellent." The commander said stiffly, pausing temporarily to glance down upon the auxiliary droid that had zoomed past the Cathar as it almost bumped inattentively into his leg. "Have you searched the ship thoroughly? Admiral Karath warned me to be on alert for any kind of treachery."

Juhani smirked to herself and shifted further into the hallway, skidding the thighs of her legs roughly along the tough floor in an attempt to better-hear the conversation. The sound of her pants rubbing along the ground screeched _almost_ un-heard across the floor, but the shorter Sith that had spoken in the first place snapped around on his heel, glaring straight through her with curiosity. The Cathar shivered as she stared into his black helmet, almost forgetting that she was – in fact – rather invisible.

"Well we did find a young twi'lek in the back." The taller of the two Sith men said, quite ignorant to his fellow Trooper's jittering. "She's got quite the mouth on her! She swore at me twice and spit on my uniform."

The shorter Sith, rekindled by the conversation, turned back around to face them and nodded in eager agreement. "She tried to bite me through my armor!" He paused and leaned in towards them both, lowering his voice so only they – and Juhani – could hear him. "And you should have heard what she said about my mother!"

"Well, where is she now?" The commander asked haughtily, disturbed by his Trooper's separate chronicles about the young alien girl.

The taller Sith shuffled his gun around in his hands momentarily and grumbled. "In there," he mused finally, shoving the tip of his blaster in the direction of the room caddy-corner to where they stood. "But I don't suggest going in there. She's a nasty little thing… probably attempting to gnaw her way through the barrier by now."

"She does have those cute little blue brain tails coming out of her head, though…" The shorter one began lamely, chuckling slightly in a failed attempt to lighten the mood for the commander.

"Oh yeah! Those lekku things… they are kind of cute." The taller one agreed in return.

The commander glanced between them both in disbelief, rubbing a hand along the top of his helmeted head while deciphering what to make of them. "_Shut up_!" He eventually exclaimed, deciding to slam the back of their helmeted heads together with anger. "Prisoners are not _cute_!"

They were all very silent for a short while.

Finally the shorter one broadened his shoulders and stood as straight as he could, throwing a hand to his forehead in a salute. "Oh, you're right. And when you're right, you're right. And you…" He took a staggering step backwards, grabbing the arm of his fellow Trooper in an attempt to gallop away while staring stiffly upon the commander. "Well, you're _always_ right!"

Juhani snorted with amusement as the Sith Troopers turned away from each other, disappearing down the hallways in separate directions with scattered looks of confusion and embarrassment. When the foyer was once again freed of all Sith, the Cathar hunched herself forward and somersaulted across the walkway towards the door with the young twi'lek supposedly hidden behind. Taking one last glance down the walkway, Juhani shook her stealth invisibility off and slowly advanced her hands to press the giant red button in the center of the door. As her now visible skin hovered mere inches above the button, the entranceway suddenly whirred open. _Uh oh…_

Jumping backwards with shock, the Cathar stared wide-eyed upon the entrance of the room, trying to decipher - in the three seconds remaining - whether she should run, scream, or start kick and scratching at the inevitable Sith that was surely about to merge from the doorway. To her astonishment, however, it was not a Sith that ventured outward.

Giggling while swinging a white and yellow passcard around the tip of her index finger, the blue twi'lek shrugged her shoulders high into the air. "When are people gonna stop underestimating me?"

Juhani, taking a moment to rehabilitate her nerves, rolled her eyes with one quick sweep up towards the ceiling and grumbled. "I am unsure, Mission." The Cathar's voice lulled slowly as she took a few steps forward; an affirming grin beginning to crease across her face. "But, I will admit, you are rather impressive – for a child."

"A child!?" Mission retorted angrily, waving the card in the woman's face. "Could a _child_ have gotten this?"

Juhani shoved her right hand quickly over the girl's mouth forcefully and shoved an erected finger before her thin lips. "Be wary of our surroundings, child!"

Mission bit the palm of the Cathar's hand angrily, watching the woman retract her arm painfully, and then opened her mouth to begin shouting out explicates…

"There you two are! I've been looking all over this place!" Mumbled Jolee's aging voice from around the corner. Mission and Juhani turned (though Juhani was half-hopping with a swatting hand as to reduce to sting), quick to respond, and stared upon the old man as he ran with irritation towards them. When he finally reached the pair, he stared down upon the passcard in the twi'leks blue fingers and smiled. "Ah, good job kid."

Mission shot him a pernicious look. "I 'aint no kid! How many times do I have to tell you people!?"

"At least once more, child."

The twi'lek rolled her eyes with emphasis, up and around as apparent as she could make it, and watched the two elders as they started down the hallway while discussing their next course in action. She heard Juhani say amidst the conversation, "I thought you hated it when people rolled their eyes at you." In which Jolee simply replied, "Well, kid's are like that." Which sent Mission into warps of frustration as she deliberately followed after them, down into the dangerous halls of the Leviathan.

--

Canderous sized up the particular shape of the Sith Trooper's as they trucked about before him, piling out of the training room in marching bands of twenty. This continual surge of numbers had continued on ever since the Mandalorian had regrouped himself from the morgue – the morgue which, conveniently placed, had one single hallway that led directly to the entrance and exit of the Sith training room.

As the massive half-naked man crouched strenuously behind a high-pile of crates, he fiddled with the shoelaces of his combat boots vigorously while debating in deep thought. At this point in his life, there wasn't much he really could do, actually. Attacking the Sith with broadened steps before him would be suicidal at best – given the circumstances that he had no weaponry, no clothes, and was greatly outnumber with a calculation skimming the lines of, oh, forty Troopers to one Mandalorian.

In the beginning of his plan, things were rather smooth sailing. He had beaten himself to a rather un-attractive pulp, pretended to be hopelessly wounded with the promise of death, and waited to be left alone in the morgue as his healing adrenalin kicked-in to instantly revive his self inflicted wounds. He had then proceeded to creep out of the vivacity occupied room and was lucky enough to find no Sith Troopers toddling about the hallway – not that anyone in their sane state of mind would want to hang anywhere near a morgue. Now, however, things were not as wonderfully wonderful as they had been a wonderful hour (or six hours) ago.

Grumbling angrily to himself, damning the Sith for their lack of a clever ship layout, Canderous shoved his arms furiously atop his perched knees and sighed. Worst thing of all, not that it could get all that much worse, his beautifully hand-crafted gun had been mercilessly hauled away (along with most of his clothing) and tossed into some random crate that was to be shipped to – well – god knows where. _Damnit,_ w_hat would anyone want with a dead man's clothes anyway…? Well I can tell you what they would want with the gun. That's a damned good gun, damnit! Probably has smudges all over the sides now with some loathsome Sith's hands grubbing all over it, damnit. As soon as I get my weapon back I'm going to shoot every Sith Trooper in this ship…DAMNIT!_

Finally satisfied with his silent rampage of thoughts, Canderous leaned with dejection against the wall of the hallway and began to count the steady echoing steps of the unison Troopers. Nine-hundred-fifty-seven, nine-hundred-fifty-eight, nine-hundred-fifty-nine…

"Statement: Hello, Meatbag."

Head snapping up with a rage, causing the back of his neck to bellow a painful crack, Canderous sneered with disguised delight upon the HK unit he had come so un-fondly acquainted with. Rubbing a hand with agony along the back of his head, the Mandalorian stood up with assertion. "'Bout time you got here, droid."

HK-47 stared upon the man with amusement, clicking his head up and down in repetitive glee. "Statement: It always does take a while for my reboot to kick in." With that being stated, he glanced quizzically over towards the marching troupes of Sith and raised his arm in excitement. "Query: Shall we attack?"

Canderous stared with bewilderment upon the droid's gun and gaped his mouth. "How did you manage to keep a weapon?"

"Commentary: This is my personal blaster encrypted into the arm of my personal design." He lend his arm forward momentarily for Canderous, of whom was extremely disgruntled by this, to stare casually upon it in examination. "Statement: It is pointless to remove such weaponry from a broken droid, for it can not be used by any other organism or mechanism."

Canderous recoiled his eyes in annoyance and leaned against the wall with a hooked thumb gesturing towards to the Sith troupes. "By all means, then, attack away."

HK bobbed his head forward on depiction of the suggestion. "Query: Will you not join me?"

"No, no." Canderous countered, glancing up at the droid as if he were the most blighted special-needs robot in the galaxy. "I don't have a weapon. And I don't particularly feel like dying at this moment in time."

HK glanced down towards his metal stomach in a sudden rush of remembrance and punched the side of the door to his center core, causing it to spring outward. Inside, among the innards of his creation, a giant silver-lined blaster sat in a gleaming stance of perfection. "Commentary: I felt you might want this later on."

Canderous glanced inside of the droid with a lack in enthusiasm, and then widened his eyes in astonishment. Slowly, he proceeded to go through an assortment of shock and admiration as he reached gently into the droid's center and retrieved his long beloved blaster. The recent despondence that had reigned over his mood dispersed in a hurried flash as he ran his rough hands over the shining sides of the gun, mouth slightly agape. "Not bad droid," He said slowly, raising the blaster lastly into the air to examine its un-touched surface. "Not bad at all."

"Query: Attack?"

Canderous snapped his gaze towards the large number of Sith Troopers that cantered past the hallway and smiled lightly, taking a smooth step forward. "Attack."

--

Two gray eyes fell slowly open with heavy debilitation, glossed over with a vehement case of ache. The room around was a very heavy contingency of blurry, half because she was staring through heavy-lidded eyes, and half because she was staring through a force field. Tiny spasms of electric aftermath painted the insides of the scoundrel's skull with waves of stinging throbs that shot up and down her temples much like a wave. Pressing her left elbow tensely into the frozen ground, True pushed her body into a half-crouch, and shook her head with leisure.

"Don't try to move too quickly," Said Bastila softly.

True paused and moaned at the sound of the Jedi's voice. "I must be in hell…"

"Funny." Bastila mumbled with tightly closed eyes, extremely un-amused.

True rocked her head slowly to her right and glanced with creased eyes upon the cross-legged Padawan in the cell next to her, whom was hovering a few feet above the ground. Bastila Shan ceased to amaze her. Even through all of her over-lapse redemption scenes in which she felt that she was the most wonderfully gifted Jedi in the universe, she still managed to make a fine amount of time to see any and all good things in even the worst of people and situations. Saul Karath, being one of them, was downright the most illusive man True had ever come to counter with… and yet Bastila had still attempted to redeem him to the light side. Pathetic, perhaps, but also slightly admirable.

The scoundrel tugged her feet around her side, likewise forming a pretzel-shape with her legs, and stared forward with castigating eyes. "How can you meditate at a time like this?"

Bastila sighed heavily, disappointed that the scoundrel was still speaking, and cocked her head with chastity. "At a time like what?"

The scoundrel slapped a winsome smile upon her face and licked her upper lip. "At a time like this." She repeated. When Bastila refused to reply, she resorted in flinging her arms around furiously, pointing at every meaningless crevasse of the room. "Like t_his_!"

Bastila, sensing great movement in the cell next to her, pried her left eye open lazily. She then stared, quite unfazed, as True had a momentary spasm of agony. "Well _this _is impossible to fix in our current situation, is it not? So, all that we can do now is wait for the others," she said simply, resuming to shut her newly opened eye. "And meditate."

"Meditate?!" True's jaw gaped slightly, and she pushed herself up from the ground in one swift movement, causing the world to topple around as a wobbling sickness bore down around her ears. When finally rebooking her levelness of the ground, she continued, "Well, you are quite the optimist aren't you?"

Bastila shrugged her shoulders lightly and folded her hands softly above her knees. "You had something you wanted to ask me?"

"Mmm." True shifted her feet around while disparaging glances towards Carth, who was still passed out from the recent torture. "I was a bit curious as to how and why you spoke to me through my mind."

The Jedi sat in silence for a moment, considering her words with slow response. Then, finally, she dropped her legs from their crossed arrangement and hovered in a sitting position, as if she was seated atop an invisible chair. When the soles of her bare feet were placed firmly upon the cold ground of the cell, Bastila opened her purple-hued eyes and stared at the scoundrel with a munificent smile. "Well, as soon as you dropped that mind-wall thick as a bantha's skull – it wasn't all that difficult." The Jedi then glanced with an allure to True's wandering eyes and likewise gazed upon the fallen pilot. "Your guard was down, after all… caring so much for Onasi and his well being."

True drew in a cavernous anger she found floating about her face and grasped onto the Jedi's captivating words. "_Caring_ for Onasi?"

"Yes."

"Uh… no."

"Yes, actually."

"No… actually."

Bastila, realizing that she had entered casually into a minefield – perhaps with incivility, instantly retracted herself from the discussion and attended further to the initial question. "I just found a gap in your mind for once, and entered. Besides, it is not unheard of for two people with a strong bond to be capable of..."

"Sneaking into each others minds?" True sighed heavily and leaned into the medal back of the cell, which was the only spot that human skin could actually touch without being burned by the force field. Slowly, the scoundrel raised her pale hands and ran shaking fingers over the dried skin of her palms. The ship murmured warmly, droning on the innocent effect, though everyone inside of the vessel knew that there was nothing innocent about it.

"Well," Bastila flushed and peered with intricate eyes towards the Sith at the computer module. "Call it what you will."

A low murmur sounded from behind the Jedi, causing both of their eyes to glance in perplexity towards the pilot. Carth, wobbling with uncertainty on his legs, stood very slowly with a hand placed softly against his forehead. He ran his palm gently across his two stray hairs in a failed attempt to keep them back, but they merely flopped forward again, aligning against the side of his forehead. When finally regrouping his comely appearance, the pilot gazed up to the two women and shook his head weakly. "That was horrible."

"Well," True replied as softly as possible, retracting her hands from their examination and folding them firmly before her chest. "You wanted to be stubborn, so you paid."

Bastila flashed her a deceitful glance as Carth narrowed his eyebrows in astonishment. "Stubborn?" He mused back at her, pointing an accusing finger in her direction. "I wasn not being stubborn! I was doing my duty as a Republican Soldier, like you!"

"I am not a Soldier, Carth! I'm a Scoundrel." True shot back irritably, pushing herself away from the wall while picturing the pilot's finger breaking into two separate halves.

"Actually you're a Jedi." Bastila mused in, staring at her feet with little to no interest in their bickering.

True shot her a glare and shrugged her shoulders, shaking off her words impertinently. "Yeah – well – I was a Scoundrel up until recently… and I had been a Scoundrel my whole entire life…"

"Actually," Bastila tried again, raising her head slowly from its down cast position. "That's not entirely true, either."

The pilot and scoundrel both glanced quizzically towards her as she chewed on her lower lip in pragmatic dispersion. "What?" True tried, throwing her left hand to her hip.

Sighing, Bastila forced her eyes to center on the scoundrel. "The council had suggested we avoid telling you at all costs. However, given the situation – and that the Jedi Masters may all be gone – I feel as if you deserve to know." The ridge of the Jedi's back slid slowly down the wall as she spoke, and she fell into a small heap at last on the floor. "Besides, I'm not so sure if we will be together for much longer."

"What – what are you talking about, Bastila?" Carth asked quickly, examining the Jedi's face for any and all answers. The brunette's mouth opened in preparation for an answer, when the door that Saul had recently entered through whirred open with immense force.

Instantaneously to this, the Sith man in the corner turned rapidly around – managing to scream a "Hey what're you…." – before being thrown into the air, and then painfully smacked in the head by the tip of a very familiar silver blaster.

Mission, the young blue twi'lek, stepped quickly over the dead trooper and jammed in some random codes to open the cells. As soon as the force fields around the cages shut down, Carth, Bastila, and True hurried forward to be warmly greeted by the entirety of the Ebon Hawk crew – though all of their expressions were tainted with the unjustified fear of freedom.

"Alright, now what?" Asked Jolee finally, after the warm and 'fuzzy' moment surpassed with a quick sweep of realization.

"Well, if I remember correctly," Carth started, taking a few steps past the others and glancing about the ship. "The cargo hold with our stuff should be in that room." He pointed a lazy finger towards a door across the way, then turned back to face the others. "And after we get our things we need to head to the Bridge."

"Why?" True mused cautiously.

"Because, it's the only place we can open the docking gates of the hangar." He replied with persecution.

"Ah, really? Because I have a feeling a certain admiral is probably hanging about that general area – this isn't just some scheme for revenge, is it, Onasi?" Carth tensed incredibly and shot her an inveterate glare. The crew, oblivious to why the two were having such heated exchanges in solitude, glanced between them with confusion.

"No, _Baill_, this is not some scheme for revenge – though I would like to settle some scores with him! And if you want to get off of this ship in one clean sweep, you better listen to me…"

"I feel Malak's presence approaching… we don't have time for this!" Bastila said hurriedly over them.

The duo sent each other angry glares once more, then threw aside their verbal swords and launched into action. "A small group will have to go to the Bridge, while the others make their way for the Ebon Hawk." The Jedi continued, glancing among the group.

"Count me in, then." Carth said haughtily, heading towards the cargo room. True watched after him with a burning sense of surly rising throughout her body.

"True, you're coming too. Carth and I might need your help."

--

The hallways of the Leviathan were – to none of their surprise – crawling with Sith Troopers at almost every corner. The battles, however annoying, were quick and rather painless up until the three entered further into the ships eastern corridor, where they began to run into impeccable numbers of Dark Jedi Masters. Soon after fighting their way through most of the area, there was a final airlock leading to the exterior ramp of the vessel, where all three of them were forced to crawl agonizingly slowly across the walkway. When merging to the other side, they were rudely greeted by five Elite Sith Troopers who threw a powerful advance in their direction. However, on a more pleasant note, they had finally arrived at the final hallway before the entranceway of the Bridge.

A heavy foreshadowing weight lulled about the air in front of them, warning and pestering the three as they slowly made their way up the long and steep vestibule. When coming to the final few feet of entrance, True sucked in a quick breath of air and glanced towards the pilot for reassurance. Carth, in response to this, gave her a very short smile – covering the internal battle of fear that was hammering around the inside of his mind. The scoundrel grabbed the corners of her black hood adjacent to this, tugging the fabric over her face, and took a giant elongated step forward. It was very quiet…

The door broke away from the center and retracted far within the wall, leaving a gaping entry before the group. The Bridge of the Leviathan seemed to be a mile wide, reaching forward with a stretch of narrowed windows lining the sides of the walls. The galaxy's view was amazing, and the sun of a random star was beaming in through the western side of the Bridge, casting a long illuminant shadow across the blackened floor. In the center of the room stood Saul, surrounded by two Dark Jedi and four Sith Troopers – two of which held a very sullen stance at each sides of the doorway.

The three entered slowly, staring solely upon the Admiral who held a very discreet smile. As the final inch of Carth and Bastila's heels reached the interior of the room, the two entrance doors slammed shut angrily behind them, locking the Ebon Hawk's main crew inside of the dreary and efflorescent room. True's gray eyes snapped towards a trooper in the corner as he chuckled with the tint of 'evil' in his throat.

"Very resourceful," Started Saul, standing in his self-impaired gridlock. With a potent smirk, the admiral then glanced upon Carth. "I assume you had something to do with this; you learned your lessons well from me."

"The only thing you taught me was betrayal and death, Saul." Carth said with a very indistinct chill hovering around the tip of his tongue.

"Don't be a fool." Saul said with narrowed eyebrows, taking a lurching step to his left while glancing thoughtfully out of the wide window with a wholesome expression. "I'm giving you and your companions a chance to surrender." He shot them all individual looks of amusement as he continued on to his next words, "Darth Malak is on his way as we speak."

Bastila shuffled about loudly, rubbing her hands down the sides of her body slowly and placing her palms on the hilt of her saber. "He speaks the truth, Carth. I feel Malak's presence approaching."

"Indeed," Saul smiled to the Jedi with a nod. "And, if you surrender, I'll ask my master to be merciful."

True snickered lightly, folding her arms together. _Right. Because the Dark Lord will listen to you…_

_/Don't underestimate the power of persuasion!/_

True rolled her eyes angrily towards the air and then snapped her gaze to the Jedi.

_I swear to the Force – get out of my head right now, Bastila._

_/We need an evasive plan, True!/_

_My only evasive plan is smacking you in the face!_

"I've seen enough of Sith mercy, Saul!" Carth said, finally rattling the scoundrel back to reality.

"You always did like to do things the hard way."

Saul's hand whipped instantly to the blaster hanging limply from his right hip, pulling it out with such a snap of urgency that the Ebon Hawk's crew was thrown into a mixture of shock and perplexity. Blaster shots sailed from all direction, bouncing off of the blade of True's duel sabers like acid rain against cement. Sparks flew across the black ground in assortments of red and yellow, chafing the souls of the enemies feet with pouring scatters of color. The lights around the dreary room flickered and twitched as the battle droned on, and momentarily illuminated with every crashing-down strike of the Jedi's blades.

Bastila, heavy in battle with a Dark Jedi and a Trooper, launched herself to the top of an un-occupied computer module and then flipped herself backwards behind her enemies in a clean sweep. Taken aback by the Padawan's swift movement, the two Sith were slow to react, leaving fare room for True to throw them both head-first into the computer's blue hued screen – which clasped into an electrifying moment in which the two men were zapped by one hundred watts of powerful energy, killing them instantly.

Smiling with a surge of power after nullifying their attempts, the scoundrel whipped about on her heel, knocking the hood away from her auburn locks, searching to aid the pilot who had been fighting off his own lone Dark Jedi. It was much to her dismay to find him hovering inches above the ground, clinging desperately at his throat as an invisible Force choked him. The Dark Jedi held his hand forward with a compelling strength towards Carth's neck, pinning him against the locked door. As the pilot gurgled and sputtered, kicking his legs in a pathetic attempt to break free, True tossed the yellow lightsaber from her right hand in the direction of Sith. However, much to her astonishment, the man had anticipated this move and snatched the soaring saber in his free hand with a very deep chuckle.

True's impertinent gaze dropped and she glanced desperately towards Bastila, who was now engaged in an extremely animated battle with Saul. A very coercive but potent tingling sensation jumped about the tips of the scoundrel's fingers, and she raised her eyes with much more antithesis then before. Dropping the remaining lightsaber from her grip, True threw both of her hands in front of her, spreading her fingers, and watched as the twisting bolts of lightning shot from within them.

Carth fell to the ground in an ungraceful heap, rubbing at his throat with a wince as True ran over to him with an outstretched hand. Grabbing hold of it quickly, the scoundrel pulled him to his feet with a huge lull, and they continued on to stand back-to-back while killing the remaining two troopers in the room – shortly thereafter being accompanied by Bastila. The pilot's hazel eyes shot towards the scoundrel as they separated, and he cracked a smile that was half astounded and half amazed. "Thanks."

True returned the short smile and nodded lightly, shoving her sabers back into her belt. "Any time."

Contented with the fact that they were back to speaking terms, Carth brushed the front of his yellow jacket free of the nonexistant small molecules of dust. Suddenly, from the far end of the Bridge, a small trembling voice called out the pilot's name. "Carth…" It paused to cough a heavy mouthful of what appeared to be dark phlegm. "Carth…"

"The Admiral, he's still alive!" Bastila breathed, gesturing in the direction of a small-bloodied heap.

Carth glanced towards the dying man and stooped to the ground to grab up a fallen weapon by his left foot. "It's time to finish this."

"Carth, no." True said sternly, latching a hold of the pilot's sleeve and tugging him swiftly back. "There isn't time – Malak will be here any minute!"

"Don't you understand what this man has done to my life?" Carth stammered, glaring down upon the broken man as blood tickled down the corners of his quivering mouth. Visions of a young Dustil burst before the pilot's eyes and he grit his teeth with elaborated malignance. "Do you know the pain he's brought me?"

"Killing him won't ease the pain, Carth. Do not become what you despise!" Bastila retorted boldly, glancing back towards the entry door in anticipation for it to open, revealing someone along the lines of Malak.

"Carth…" cough. "Must tell you…" cough. "Must tell you something…" Cough, blood trickled down his face. "Come – come closer…"

Carth, softly pulling his sleeve from the scoundrel's desperate grip, walked slowly forward and crouched before the tattered body of Saul. With a surprising force of power, the admiral grabbed the back of the pilot's head and pulled him forward. His fading blue eyes glinted maliciously as he murmured something unintelligible into the pilot's ear, finishing it off with a very cold laugh and the words, "You didn't know, did you?"

Carth's breath slowed as the world around him started to spin at a magnificent speed. With a sudden urgency of anger, he grasped the dying man around the collar of his black uniform and shook him so that he would finish. Saul coughed up one last force of blood, clearing his throat for a final confrontation of words. "Remember my dying words…" cough. "Remember them when you look at those you thought were your friends!"

And then, Saul Karath fell into silence.

"No!" Carth shook the dead admiral furiously around in a failed attempt to reawaken him, hoping to get one last answer. "He said… it can't be true." His breath came in with quakes and shivers. "Can it? No. No… no – it can't! Damn you Saul! Damn you!" Dropping the body furiously to the floor, the pilot stood abruptly and whipped around to face Bastila.

True raised a narrowed eyebrow quizzically. "What did he say, Carth?"

"Bastila – it is true isn't it? And you… oh you… you knew!" The pilot interred with fury, throwing the weapon he had recently picked up onto the floor with a loud over-clapping snap. "You and the whole damn Jedi Council. You knew the whole time!"

"Knew what?" The scoundrel asked.

"Carth it's not what you think!" Bastila said quickly, taking a step backwards as the weapon skid across the tiled floor. "We had no other choice! Please, you don't understand…"

"What are you two talking about!?" True tried, yet again.

"So make me understand, then!" Carth said over her.

"What is going on!?" And again.

"Not here, Carth, please… there isn't time. Malak is coming, and this isn't the place to discuss it." Bastila replied, ignoring the scoundrel.

"Discuss what!!" And… again.

"Please Carth, I'm asking you to trust me for just a little while longer." She continued over True's question.

"I'll trust you, Bastila. But only until we get off this ship – then, I want some answers!" Carth said, much more calmly, exhaling with a heavily coated aggravation.

"Of course Carth. As soon as we get off of this ship I'll explain everything…" she paused to finally acknowledge True, who was standing in a huff off to the side. "To both of you. I promise."

--

The only sounds for the remainder of the voyage were that of blaster shots and lightsabers mingling throughout the endeavor of battle. As for conversations, it was very quiet among the three companions, and something very cold and painful lingered in the air between them. Carth walked numbly, with a stone-hard expression that promised absolutely nothing but solitude masked under confusions and shame. Bastila was mortified, walking much brisker then usual, keeping an ever-wary eye out for Malak behind each and every corner. True, still recovering from the recent confusion that took place back on the Bridge (which was now a few steady miles behind them), walked with constant glances of fixation back and forth between the silent Jedi and pilot. Before, during, and after every small band of Sith they had come across, there was bitter silence through heavily gritted teeth, mulling secrets and silence beyond their paled lips.

True's placid appearance sifted through suitable fixations of expressions as she reencountered the moment back on the Bridge with Saul Karath. What had he said to Carth? What could possibly cause the levelheaded pilot to blow up so randomly – now leaving him with fits of anger that retracted through the Force like a tidal wave? Whatever it was, it hadn't been good news, and the scoundrel knew with very silent mollification that – in proper time – she would know exactly what the fallen admiral had said.

The constant quivering of lights overhead brought the scoundrel back to the presence of the moment and she glanced up thoughtfully, noting that the powerful luminance was a deep shade of red. What it could possibly signify, she hadn't a clue, but it was certainly a strange choice of lighting for such a random hallway. The door at the end of the vestibule hummed open as they approached it, revealing a very dark corridor with an extremely agile-looking hole-filled floor that didn't seem fit to step upon. Aside from the floor – which was conveniently eerie – there were three emptied hallways all leading up to separate winging doors. The scoundrel walked slowly into the center of the room, staring through the tiny holes at the pit of her feet that soared down for what appeared to be miles full of emptiness... and lights. Lots of lights.

A strangely ice-cold malignity-filled surge tugged at the inside of True's mind, causing her to throw both of her arms out with a sudden reaction, pausing the silent companions at her sides in mid step. The frozen eruption sent superlative goosebumps up and down her neck, leaving behind reminisces of the Force. This, however, was a very different kind of Force. It was powerful, much like that of the Jedi Council's, but it was much more vice and achy… and it felt surprisingly _good_ to her...

Suddenly, as they stood very still in the center of the corridor, the door straight in front of the group shot randomly open. A tall man, wearing a tight red jumpsuit-outfit and half of a black cape, strut carelessly in from the entrance of the doorway. He had strange long black tattoos that started at the base of his eyebrows and leveled back across his balding head, and he wore a silver plate across his lower jaw. His dark sunken eyes stared imperishably upon the scoundrel and narrowed in with imputable curiosity as he made his way across the dangerous ground, stopping a few feet before them.

"Darth Malak." Bastila mused, pulling the double-bladed lightsaber from her hip and readying herself for an immediate battle.

Carth, one step ahead of the Jedi, shot three blasts from his gun straight for the Dark Lord's head. But Malak simply blocked each one effortlessly, sifting them away with the blade of his red saber, and then preceded to Force-push the pilot onto his rear with the swift wave of his hand.

True stared upon the man with a strange case of admiration as he laughed a throaty chuckle while Carth flew weightlessly through the air. "I hope you weren't thinking of leaving so soon, Bastila. I've spent far too much energy hunting down you and your companions to let you get away now." He paused and glanced towards True, sending a momentarily chill of brilliance through her body. "Besides, I had to see if it was true. Even now… I can hardly believe my eyes. Tell me, why did the Jedi spare you? Is it vengeance you seek at this reunion?"

It took the scoundrel a moment to realize he was addressing her, even though he was staring quite bluntly through her – it just didn't seem like something she would be asked by him. Though, all too soon, the memory of Saul asking her a similarly based question panged the edge of her senses. "Reunion? I… I don't understand."

"What!?" The Dark Lord said with sticky confusion clinging desperately to his voice. He laughed slowly, which grew into an even larger chuckle as he stared upon the woman's confused face. "You mean you don't know?" Again, he paused to laugh, this time throwing his hand to his abdomen and squinting his sunken eyes. "All this time, and you _still_ haven't figure it out?"

True glanced momentarily at Bastila with utter confusion – shocked to see that the Jedi had no such expression mimicked on her paling face.

"I wonder how long you would have stayed blind to the truth?" Malak continued on, grasping at the scoundrel's attention and thwarting it back in his direction. "Surely some of what you once were must have surfaced by now."

The scoundrel's jaw did an assortment of pushups and she flipped her auburn hair around wildly to view Carth – who was now standing again – and he looked just as un-confused as Bastila had. _What is going on here!_

"Even the combined power of the Jedi Council could not keep your true identity buried forever, could it?"

And then… everything began to make a horrifying mess of sense…

--

_"The Jedi do not believe in killing their prisoners.  
No one deserves execution, not matter what their crimes."_

_"The council would not normally accept and adult for training  
but this is a special case."_

_"They say the Force can do terrible things to a mind:  
It can wipe away your memories and destroy your very identity!"_

_"Tatooine. Kashyyyk. Manaan. Korriban.  
Revan visited each of these worlds searching for clues to reveal the  
hidden location of the Star Forge."_

_"The lure of the Dark Side is difficult to resist. I fear this quest to find  
the Star Forge could lead you down an all too familiar path."_

_"What greater weapon is there than to turn an enemy to your cause?  
To use their own knowledge against them?"_

_--_

True Baill quivered as the Leviathan hummed its way across the Galaxy, hovering above a shining sun that the Ebon Hawk had been sucked in next to on their course to Korriban. Korriban, the home of the last Star Map. The Star Map that she had once searched for, a very long time ago. A very long time ago, when True Baill was Revan. Hundreds upon hundreds of memories clashed down around the scoundrel's ears, placing her in a morbid sense of paralysis. She couldn't breath – she couldn't speak. Everything as she knew it was a lie. Everything that she had been transferred to believe was fake. She never had a family that lived on some desolate un-named planet… she never had the normal scoundrel life that she had once so strongly abided by. It was all fake. A game, for the Jedi. She was once the most powerful Dark Sith in the world – betrayed by her pupil, and now betrayed by…

Turning about with a spur of fury, tossing the bottom of her robes around in a flipping mess of black, she glared inquiringly upon the smoldering Padawan who faded back into the shadows. "Is it true, Bastila?"

The Jedi looked to be on the verge of tears as she nodded her head slowly upward and then slowly down, bobbing her short braids about her collarbone. "It's true. I was part of the team sent to capture Revan… to capture you." She stepped idly forward and reached a hand outward to place lightly on the side of True's arm. "You were badly wounded and your mind was destroyed. I used the Force to reserve the small flicker of life still remaining in your body – it was the Jedi Council that healed you."

"Then where did my memories come from, Bastila!" Snapped True, shoving the Jedi's arm away forcefully.

Malak's husky voice coughed from the side, adding in a small chuckle. "The Jedi didn't restore your wounded mind, Revan! They merely covered it over with a new identity – one that was faithful to the Republic! They tried to make you their slave!"

"No! That's not what we wanted, Revan! I - I couldn't let you die, not if it was possible to save you." Bastila corrected over him, once again reaching forward to comfort True.

However, again, True shoved aside all attempts of Bastila's comforting gestures. "Then why did you take my identity?"

"We couldn't simply restore your identity: Revan was too dangerous!" Bastila replied. "But we needed the secrets of your mind; the Star Forge. The council gave you a new identity: True Baill, scoundrel under my command. Your subconscious was supposed to lead me to the Star Forge – there was no other way."

"They made you their puppet, Revan! And Bastila was the handler, pulling your strings." Malak hummed again with a vindictive tone.

True stared at the ground, breathing as heavily as if she had just ran ten miles to get here. Her heart raced at a pace that had to be far above healthy; her hands grew clammy and her body ached with anger. Gray eyes glanced with uncertainty towards the silent pilot to her left – and she was thwarted into a subdued source of shame as she found herself staring back into his dark hazel eyes.

Carth. Her closest friend she had had during this entire mission… he was just as shocked to hear this news as she was. That pilot had known her for such a long time, and they had grown so close – and now he was staring upon her like he didn't even know her. And with good reason. But – who's fault was that? Was it the Jedi's, or the Sith's? Somewhere along the lines both had betrayed her, and somewhere along the lines Carth Onasi, as well as the rest of the Ebon Hawk crew, had been tossed into the handful of lies. What would the others think when they found out? Were they going to react the same way as he had… _am I even going to get out of this mess?_

With great leisure, the scoundrel's gaze bounced back up towards the Dark Lord in anticipation. A flash of violence glazed across his dark eyes. "Bastila, you betrayed me, and you are no better than the Sith," She mused toward the Padawan standing in opprobrious depths to her left. Bastila opened her mouth to retort, but True cut her off with urgency. "But I have a score to settle with _you_."

"With pleasure," The Dark Lord chuckled, throwing his hand in the air and freezing both Bastila and Carth in a blue-hazed fixation. True glanced between both of her stiff companions in confusion, then shot an inquiring stare towards the Dark Lord as he ignited his red lightsaber. "We shall finish this alone in the ancient Sith traditions: master versus apprentice, as it was meant to be!"

She had only a quick second to shrug her shoulders in response before Malak launched his body forward with a swift thrust of his ruby-hinted blade toward the scoundrel's chest. Jumping quickly to the side while withdrawing both of her ill-color-coordinated sabers, True lunged at the Dark Lord's body with a vehement attempt at slicing his arm. Dancing around the dangerous structure of the ground, the battle between the two Jedi etched on for a very long time. Dodging in and out of contact with her companions, the scoundrel danced about the corridor with Malak quick on her step. The irony of the situation, if anyone had taken the time to stop and look at it, was immensely powerful for his or her current frustrations.

In one particular point, the Dark Lord threw his hand out in front of him in a clenching kind of gesture, and began to use the Force by closing the walls of the scoundrel's throat. True dropped the yellow lightsaber in her hand and gasped desperately for air as a fine design of plaid patterns started to form before her oxygen deprived eyes. Malak laughed maliciously in front of her, contented with the feeling of overpowering his previous master. Then, with a revived sense of fury, she brought the lasting strength of her arm to slash wickedly for the man's face – missing, but managing to gash the side of his arm.

Malak dropped his strong hold of her neck and clutched at the heavy flow of blood merging from the skin just below his shoulder. They stood in silence, quivering with pain and regaining air in their lungs. Then with such a suddenness that the scoundrel hadn't quite known how to react, the Dark Lord grabbed up the lightsaber True had dropped from the ground and threw it… but it wasn't towards her, it was towards Carth's unresponsive body.

Overcome with bewilderment, the scoundrel flung her hand up and ceased the blade of the saber as it hovered inches from the pilot's face. Letting a long relieved sigh pass beyond her lips, she then used the Force to tug the lightsaber back into her hands and turned to face Malak… or – well, where Malak was _supposed_ to be, at least. True sneered at the harsh realization that the man had fled with dire attempts at destracting her, and she hurried down the vestibule in the direction she assumed he had disappeared. She spent a good five minutes searching for him, using the Force to guide her – noting that the Force was an extremely terrible compass – and finally found the man standing in the back of yet another twisting hallway.

Upon her entry, Malak re-ignited his saber and motioned for her to come in. With little hesitation, True flipped threw the air straight for the Dark Lord's body and crashed both of her sabers down around his face – yet he still managed to block them with his single lightsaber. Falling slightly backwards, surprised by his ability to hinder her attack, True attempted to throw her saber at him, which he had also anticipated and impeded. Blinking with astounded respect, a flickering spark ignited at the tips of her fingers, and she shot him a catty smirk – just before electrifying him with a giant span of lightning.

Apparently feeling a suddenness of hopeless, Malak froze the scoundrel to movement in similarity to her companions. With a deep laugh, the man walked slowly forward and raised his saber to eyes length with the woman. True tugged and twisted at the frozen barrier that now clung to the sides of her skin; but she couldn't move. "And now, I will finish you Revan."

"This isn't over, Malak!"

True never imagined in a million years that that voice, the same one that usually had such horribly impeccable timing, would ever give her such a strong rush of relief that it had in that moment. The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes in on the Jedi as she stood in the doorway a good distance behind them, and then turned his attention back to the frozen body of True. "Your friends do not give up easily, Revan; you always could inspire loyalty." As if not caring anymore what happened to the scoundrel, he then ran towards Bastila with a rekindled hunger in his eyes.

True fell to her knees with a sudden jolt of pain as the frozen barrier disappeared. She glanced venomously towards the Sith Lord as he ran after the Jedi, and a sudden shocking feel of warm hands wrapped around the top of her shoulder, tugging her to her feet. The scoundrel's gray eyes snapped towards Carth with mild incredulity as they exchanged a momentarily shutter of relief. _Thank gods you're ok…_

"I'll hold Malak off. You two get out of here!" Bastila screamed shortly after, instantaneously to the sound of dueling sabers rolled down the hall towards them.

"No, Bastila, he's too strong!" Carth hollered as they both stared after her, beginning to advance to her aid.

Using what was quite apparently the last strength of the Force she possessed, Bastila shoved Malak into the rigid wall of the far room and sprinted over to the entrance of it, turning to stare back upon her two loyal companions for the final time. "Find the Star Forge! You're the last hope of the Republic. And Revan…" The Dark Lord started to stand up behind her – the scoundrel opened her mouth to warn her… "I mean, True. True… I'm so sorry for everything – please forgive me!"

The door slammed shut.

A painful scream merged from behind it.

"BASTILA!" True ran as fast as she could to the door and beat her tightly clenched fists upon it repetitively. "No! No, no… open the door!" _Bastila… answer me… get into my head… I know I said earlier that I didn't want you to but… damnit!_

She continued to rap against the door as long as she could until Carth finally hurried over and grabbed her around the sides of her arms, shaking her back to her senses. "The door is sealed, we can't get past! Now come on, we have to get back to the Ebon Hawk!"

"But Bastila… we have to do something…" True started, surrounded by an angry field of hysterics.

Carth shook her, yet again. "Bastila doesn't stand a chance against Malak, but we can't help her. Not here. We have to get off of this ship and find the Star Forge, that's the key to beating the Dark Lord!" He stared upon her with commanding eyes, and then eased into a softened gaze as he noticed the expression of her broken face smothering into despair. "We… we have to go. Now." And with that he dropped his hands leisurely from her arms and started down the hallway, gesturing for her to follow.

--

As the Ebon Hawk blasted itself as far away from the Leviathan as possible, the gun turrets of the gaint ship shot after it in dire attempts at firing the small vessel down. The remaining crew, scattered in a jumble about the interior of the ship, held on to any and all objects that could prove of use to steadying themselves, as Carth flipped and flopped the Ebon Hawk through the air.

True sat in the co-pilot's chair, staring with un-blinking eyes upon the asteroid field that rapidly approached them. It was one thing to fly through asteroids, it was also one thing to avoid getting blasted, but it was a completely different region of bantha fodder when flying through an asteroid field while trying to avoid getting blasted. On one note, you had the bothersome reminder that if one of those shots managed to hit your ship, you would blow up. On another note, you had the equally bothersome reminder that the blasts could hit an asteroid, blow the asteroid up, and therefore blow you and your ship up in a rather wonderful dominoes effect. On a last note, there was the extremely bothersome reminder that while you attempted to avoid getting blasted yourself, you could run straight into an asteroid and blow yourself and the asteroid to smithereens.

"I'm going to have to jump to hyperspace!" Carth said sternly, jerking the steering stick roughly to the left, causing the Ebon Hawk to somersault onto its side in avoidance of another glowing blaster shot.

True shot him a look of uncertainty. "But… the asteroid field!"

Carth glared at her angrily and jolt his shoulders up into a shrug. "We don't have any other options before they suck us back into their tractor beam again!"

HK-47 wobbled in on unsteady mechanical legs, throwing his body against the back of True's chair as the Ebon Hawk teetered onto its backside. "Commentary: Master, the possibilities of successfully navigation an asteroid field is approximately three-thousand-seven-hundred-and-twenty to one."

True glanced up towards the droid with a perplexed expression. "Never give me the odds."

"I'm going to do it!" Carth said reassuringly, hovering his hand over the hyperspace button – which, in this situation, might as well be labeled as the 'DO NOT PUSH IF IN THE CENTER OF AN ASTEROID FIELD' button – and waited for her to respond.

"Ok… do it." She said, holding onto the front of the Bridge's panel in anticipation.

"Statement: Suicidal Meatbags…"

--

The Ebon Hawk lulled slowly through the Galaxy, hovering above the tan colored planet of Korriban with silent milieu. Inside of the ship there remained nine companions, seven of who stood within the center of the vessel holding indiscriminate expressions plastered to their quickly paling faces. Only two of the crew knew of what happened back on the Leviathan, rendering around the assumption now that Bastila Shan was dead.

In the center of the ship Jolee Bindo stood with subtle shrewdness, bewildered by the current situation of things. Mission Vao was leaning against the back of her wookie friend Zaalbar, quizzically staring at the very unattractive interior of the wall. Canderous Ordo was reposing against a crate, - next to the HK unit and the utility droid – all of whom were trying to decipher if they should be worried about the situation, or not, or what. Lastly there was Juhani, who sat with her knees up to her chest, glancing among them all with an in-depth case of inconsequential apathy.

Finally, Carth Onasi and True Baill barreled in from the Ebon Hawk's Bridge and stood among the others with significant importance. Re-ignited by their entry, all of the crew flounced to their feet and bombarded the duo with a slur of questions – rendering mainly around, "What happened!?"

"We ran into Malak." Carth said over them, causing each of their voices to fall into silence. "He would have killed us, but Bastila sacrificed herself so that we could escape."

Mission retracted her lekku in horror. "You mean she's… she's dead?"

"Probably." True answered in monotone, staring off at vast span of nothingness within the wall – though she assumed Bastila was probably ok, she had such a dim look about life at this particular moment in time, and just wanted to assume everyone as dead.

Jolee grumbled and elbowed the scoundrel in the side. "Nonsense. Malak won't kill her, he'll use her."

"Well either way," the scoundrel continued, rubbing painfully at her side where the old man's bony elbow had collided against her rib cage. "We need to find the Star Forge if we're going to rescue her…"

"Not so fast – we've got a bigger issue to handle here." Carth snapped over her, causing her to flinch and recoil. Back in the Bridge they had been in such a hurry for freedom that they hadn't really considered the adjacent moment to which they currenlty stood - but now, when turmoil was far from over, the pilot fell back into his recent stage of fury. "Do you want to tell them, or should I?"

"I'm True Baill, Carth, not Revan!" She said tersely – then, with horrifying realization, slammed her foot to the ground and sucked in her lips.

Canderous and HK almost tripped over each other as the words spilled from the woman's mouth, and they glanced in perplexity towards her. Jolee grumbled something unintelligible while chuckling slightly. Juhani gaped her mouth, refusing to believe it. Zaalbar and Mission exchanged looks of surprise. And T3 burbled a bunch of random beeps and spun around in a spastic circle.

"Revan!?" Mission said in astonishment, gasping along with the rest of the crew as they stared benightedly upon her. "You… you're jokin'."

"Oh no, it's no joke." Carth reassured the blue twi'lek, flashing a suspicious glare towards True. "She's the previous Dark Lord of the Sith. Bastila even confirmed it."

"This is… this is big…" Mission said slowly, walking towards True and staring her deep in the eyes, almost as if expecting the Dark Lord to lunge out at her from their depths. "Do you remember anything about being the Dark Lord?"

True blinked down upon the girl, quirking an eyebrow. "Nope." Perhaps it was a lie, since she did have a few small visions and strange dreams, but they all seemed to be insubstantial to anything, so she preferred not to get into it.

"Then I don't think there's a problem." She finished with a small smile.

Carth stared at her in astonishment and rounded some crates as to step closer to the twi'lek and stare upon the scoundrel in the same position – wondering if there was something obvious on her face that suggested that there 'wasn't a problem'. "How can you say that? She's been Darth Revan this whole time – sure she doesn't remember it but… but what if memories start flooding back? What if Darth Revan turns on us too?"

"I'm not the Dark Lord anymore – I'm one of you." True said quickly, slapping on an innocent smile for good measure.

Mission giggled and nodded her head. "See? I don't see the Dark Lord of the Sith standing there… I see a friend who's been with us through thick and thin."

Zaalbar mumbled off to the side and nodded his furry head in agreement.

"How can you say that? How can either of you say that?!" Carth chimed in, throwing a jumble of frustrated hands in the air while giving them both looks of disapproval. "The Sith bombed my home world! Revan took away my family and destroyed my life!"

"Everyone knows that Malak sent the attack on your planet, Carth! Revan had nothing to do with that." Canderous said, taking a giant step towards Carth and jabbing him the arm with the tip of his shiny blaster.

Carth glanced down upon the gun, flashed the Mandalorian a strict 'get that away from me' look, and took a step to the side. His eyes then skid over to True who stood, miserable and afraid as if she was on trial for her life, glaring at the floor in defeat. He lowered his voice to a gentle hum, "Look, you have proven yourself to be a friend of the Republic many times… but that was on a fake identity. Now that you know who you really are, how can I trust you? How can any of us trust you?"

"It's not who I really am, Carth. It's who I was." The scoundrel corrected, lifting her milky eyes from the silver ground and glancing desperately towards the pilot. She then, as if triggered, shot her eyes towards Jolee. "What about you, old man?"

Wavering his bushy eyebrows, the old Jedi chuckled and folded his arms. "I've known all along – and if you think something small like you being Darth Revan is going to chase this old geezer off, well…" He paused to hack up something – most likely phlegm – that floated to the bottom of his throat. "You've got another thing coming."

"Canderous?"

Canderous smiled sinisterly and popped the hilt of his gun up to his eye as if prepared to shoot something. "You were the only person that could beat the Mandalorian clans, Revan." He lowered his gun slowly and nodded his head gently forward in the most kindly manner True had ever seen. "We had never met someone like you before, and never since. How can you _even_ ask if I will follow you?"

"T3?"

The small bobbing unit crashed clumsily into the wall with absence of mind, then jotted its head up and down in merry response.

"Commentary: I am experiencing something… unusual, master."

Every single member of the crew took two steps away from the HK unit. "What is it…" True asked cautiously, tempted to grab up her lightsaber and begin slashing him.

"Answer: My programming is reactivating my deleted memory core, master. I believe I have a… a homing system that is restoring it." The HK unit responded, wavering back and forth slightly as an assortment of memories flooded back into his robotic mind.

"Oh god's… quick, throw him out in the escape pod…"

"Observation: That won't be necessary, master. My intent is not hostile." The unit continued, jarring it's body around in sudden excitement. "Observation: It seems as if my memory core is restored upon… upon returning to my original master."

Canderous chuckled off to the side and mumbled something along the lines of, "Well that makes sense" before returning to his original state of expressionless. The entirety of the group all exchanged looks of agreement to that statement.

True finally turned back to Carth and exhaled deeply, offering him a small smile. "Well Carth, what will it be? Are you with me, or against me?"

Everyone fell into simultaneous silence as the pilot distorted his face and weighed his options carefully. His expression was assorted as he gnawed the inside of his cheek; millions of possibilities ramming into his skulll. Finally, with much reluctance, he sighed and squared his shoulders. "Well, I really don't have any other choice, do I?" He grumbled angrily, refusing to exchange her smile.

"Good… I – I won't let you down, Carth." She tried again, batting the long lashes before her gray eyes curtly.

_I want to believe you… I really do… _"Yeah, well. This is a little much for me to wrap my mind around, _Revan_." The pilot said stiffly, and then took a steady step backwards and disappeared into the Bridge from whence he came.

True Baill – Revan – stood broken and shattered with the hardships of reality.

--

**This is where I wipe the sweat from my brow and exclaim, "THAT WAS A BEAST!"  
Longest chapter yet… dear me.  
Might edit through this (mainly the fighting scenes because they are kind of in shambles) so I would appreciate it if you guys pointed out any things that may need to be smoothened out!  
R'n'R if you feel so inclined.**


	8. Korriban pt 1 : Consumption of the Past

**Sayle: **Yeah, Carth really does become a butt head when you figure out you're Revan. It's lame. :P And in this chapter – he's kind of a big pain in the rear. Haha, but I don't wanna spoil anything. Thanks for reviewing! Hope you like this chapter!

**Shaida01: **Well thank you! And thanks for sticking with my story, darlin'. I feel horrible for taking so long to update. But thanks for the review! :)

**Lucifer Yaway: **Haha, yesss I did use an actual Star Wars quote – and I think it's great you caught on. I was thinking, hmm, well this is Star Wars, so why not? :P Thanks for the wonderful review yet again, and hopefully this chapter is to your liking.

**Trans 7.4.7 Formers**: It's TOTALLY my fav. Part too. I remember the first time I played the game my jaw, like, dropped to the ground. I was like NOWAY!? Haha. I'm a bit lame, huh? :P Anyhow, thank you for the review!

**Vampire-Orchid:** I adore how you tell me what your favorite quotes are in my stories – it pleases me to see that there are actual things that stick out as opposed to a boring read. Thank you for the reviews you have given me throughout this – hope you like this one as well!

**Also, to everyone who hasn't reviewed but is reading it and adding it to their alerts and/or favorites – thank you SO much for reading this and I'm so super glad you all enjoy it enough to be interested in its progress. ;)**

--

**Title: A Scoundrel's Tale**

**Rating: PG-13 **

**Chapter Summary: **Korriban. As soon as the ship lands on this seething planet a series of unfriendly situations occur, leading True Baill down the once all too familiar path of the Dark Side…

**Disclaimer: **None of the charries are mine – personalities, on the other hand, are.

**Author's Note:** This chapter is definitely not following plot. Well, it DOES, but then again it really takes some strange twists and turns. I really had fun writing it because – well – hopefully you'll figure out what is beginning to happen. ;)

SORRY it took so long to get an update out there!! I feel horrid, but at least I DID get it up eventually. You see, my parents are getting a divorce, and since I am still 16 years old it's not going to well for me, and I haven't felt much like writing – but enough about me! Read and review! :)

**(Korriban pt: 1)**

**Consumption of the Past**

--

"**Why would you take a gift as glorious as the Force and squander it?"**

_A circular room with tombs and statues stood still and morose in bitter silence. Small specks of dust tumbled down from the high ceiling and collected in piles on the tan floor. The small metal structure in the center of the room slowly branched out its three arms and hurled a familiar shaped ball into the air. Dappled glares of light ran across the floor as it rose higher, and formed into a miniature galaxy map, momentarily bowdlerizing the enclosure._

A black-hooded woman sat very stiff in the seat of a gun turret, the palms of her feet pressed tightly against the ovular glass of the small encasement. The dark fabric around her face rolled around with her head as she lulled it slowly back and forth, cracking the tension deep within her neck. Sullen gray eyes stared out upon the galaxy as stars blared past in the opposite direction, disappearing into a deep and dark abyss. If at all possible to count them, she would probably devote all of her un-rested time calculating the exact amount of stars the ship soared by with necessity – but other lesser-confusing things strangled the whims of her mind. As the Ebon Hawk made its way leisurely through the galaxy, leaving a span of three days in its wake as the vessel roamed from the ship Leviathan to the planet Korriban, time seemed to move at the pace of a wandering star. The trip was long – but it perhaps was not as horridly long in reality as it seemed to True Baill.

The scoundrel tapped her finger lazily atop her knee, slowly and in absence of mind, her weary eyes stinging from the lack of relief. The only time her body had truly experience any level of sleep was moments prior, henceforth when she had awoken with urgency to the ever-annoying image of the approaching Star Map. Usually, upon receiving the painful visions, True would be sharing them with the irritating company of Bastila Shan – but not this time.

Bastila. The thought caused the woman to choke on her breath, somewhat as if she had been gasping with smoke that was caught deep within her drying throat. A heavy shade of gray fell across her face, melting into dark shadows, and her sharp eyes narrowed into an unwelcoming fixation. If the young Padawan had not risked her own life for True's, things would have been very different. Perhaps it would have been the scoundrel who was captured instead of Bastila… or worse perhaps someone could have died. On another, more cheerful note, perhaps they all could have fled in one joyous group! Or – completely opposing of that – there was the ever-lingering thought that perhaps the scoundrel could have overpowered the Dark Lord of the Sith. The woman bit tenderly down upon her lower lip… _I could have killed Malak if she hadn't interfered… _

Shifting nervously about, glancing around the small space she had hidden herself into as if someone might be reading her mind, True sifted the thought aside hurriedly. _Of course_ it was a good thing that Bastila had come in time – after all, she was rather incompetent more then half of the time, therefore probably unable to complete finding the Star Maps in any sense of the reality. Besides, True had found them before all on her own… many years ago. When she was Revan.

A shiver coiled up and down the woman's spine causing her to jerk furiously forward, banging the edge of her forehead upon the closer-then-expected glass, while managing to knick her hand painfully against the turret control – lastly bumping the giant red button on the tip of the 'joy stick' and shooting an extremely loud blast into the middle of emptiness.

The scoundrel stared angrily out after the red shot as it shrank into non-existence and she rubbed her hand against her head with frustration, pulling the hood away from her face in exasperation. _Things could be worse, things could be worse…_

"So it is true, is it not?"

_Mm. Just got worse._ Still rubbing the top of her head, True leaned forward in the seat of the turret gun, and twisted her body around the side of it to stare upon the familiar face of the Cathar. Her yellow cat-shaped eyes glared accusingly back upon the scoundrel, greeting her in the most unpleasant of ways, while placid hands gripped firmly upon the narrow breaching of her hips. Inhaling heavily True softened her eyes and nodded her head, shaking the auburn strands around her throbbing forehead. What was one to say in such a situation? Would they say? _No no, of course not, I was just kidding!_ "I assume as much, Juhani."

"Do not call me by my name, stranger!" Juhani snapped, pointing a sharp-nailed finger up towards the scoundrel's face. A quaking eruption of unpleasantness seemed to shoot out of the woman's erected finger, causing the scoundrel to raise a crooked eyebrow with caution and rising amusement. They both knew as well as the next patron whom could care to join in on the situation that Juhani could easily shoot any kind of threatening Force power through the tip of her finger, but for guessable reasons of overpowering, the Cathar had obvious caution of threatening the prior Dark Lord of the Sith.

True held in a snort that threatened to burst from her throat as Juhani ceased to lower her accusing hand. _Do it, you pathetic little animal… _Disturbed by her own twisted thoughts, the scoundrel gnawed the tip of her tongue easily while shoving herself free from the seat, advancing closer towards the angry Cathar. The feeling of resentment radiated from her skin in overwhelming waves of fury, piling towards True in heavy loads. As her feet reached the floor of the vessel, leveled off with Juhani in stance, she raised her gaze cheerily and shrugged her bony shoulders into the air. "Then what should I call you? Cat-woman? Mysterious-accomplice? Or…" She took a step forward and snatched the finger that was pointing towards the center of her face, bending it upwards for examination, "Funny-fingernailed-feline-friend?"

"This is hardly the time for jokes!" Juhani retorted, whipping her hand away from the scoundrel's grip and taking a steady step backward. True attempted to plaster a look of hurt upon her face, but the action failed miserably.

There was a steady silence between the two women, in which they exchanged assorted glances of anger and amusement. Juhani found everything in the situation to be suspicious and horrid, where on the opposite hand, True was far past the mood of understanding. Finally the Cathar spoke, mirrored with an assorted anxiety hollowed to her face as the words piled out like a list of negatives. "You turned me away from the Dark Side, and yet here you are! The ultimate change… you acted like I was some kind of an idiot for doing it, when you… I - I just don't understand how you could be so… so…."

"Hypocritical? Yes, well, perhaps if I had remembered who I once was, I would have pat you on the back for turning to the Dark Side." True butt in quickly, sifting through the possibilities of escape while leaning deep into the wall. The frozen metal interior clung to her warm bare skin and shot goosebumps up to her neck, sending a funny spasm to quake throughout the scoundrel's arm. "I just _don't know_ how things would have been."

Juhani watched the woman as she leaned her exhausted body against the cold wall with mild exasperation, her piercing eyes shadowing momentarily. True yawned as the Cathar continued on, "Perhaps I have over tread my boundaries as… as your companion. I am sorry – it is just so difficult to believe you could simply forget such a wondrous past."

True slammed her jaw shut from its elongated stretch and her gaze fell onto Juhani with surprise. When recollecting on her past existence she had never once referred to it as a 'wondrous' time of her (or anyone's) life – and never suspected someone as high-pressured as Juhani to see it as such. Inhaling deeply, considering the exact words to reply with such a statement, the scoundrel rolled her tongue around the inside of her mouth and glanced between the hall-space from wall to wall. The Ebon Hawk creaked from the aching silence as it lulled ever-slowly through the Galaxy, reminding True of the necessary task remaining. Twitching her nose in a quick circle and creasing her brows, she pressed away from the wall and yearned for the most atrocious excuse to leave the Cathar's presence. "I did not forget it, Juhani. It was stolen from me." Narrowing her eyes in one last time upon the opposite woman's face, True tensed her shoulders backward and started down the hallway. "It's the past now. Just focus on our task."

Juhani withdrew a merging smile and shifted to the left as the scoundrel made her way swiftly past her, brushing flaring robes against the bare skin of the Cathar's ankles as she went. Her orbiting eyes lingered upon the scoundrel's back for a moment, examining the way the power-dwelled woman held herself. Thin and dry lips separated to speak just above a quaking whisper, "It is easier for one to focus on the task when they are not distracted by a certain Pilot…"

True paused. The palms of both of her hands, tense and hot, sat tenderly against the sides of the shadowed hallway. She could feel the rapid beats of her heart pulsating against her chest at a speed of uncertainty, repeatedly ringing throughout her body. If she had a coin handy, she would have tossed it in the air, leaving one side in determination of whether she should turn about on her heel and rap repeatedly against Juhani's skull with an ignited saber. The delectable image caused the scoundrel to shiver momentarily. Such an evil thought. Such a thought that only a Dark Lord would even consider using. Placid hands slid slowly down the smooth wall leaving heated marks to smear against the cold interior of the ship. As the steadiness of her mind and kindness that was twisting in pain somewhere below a hood of darkness melted hurriedly into her mind, steady steps began to lead the scoundrel silently away. _It would seem the coin has landed._

--

Beep.

Other then the miscellaneous eruption of highly pitched beeping that would gush from the console every minute or so, the Bridge of the Ebon Hawk was surprisingly quiet for a realistic inhabitance of two people being inside of it. There were no Gizka in the room, no jumps to hyperspace, no interdictor ships, and no blaster shots. There was only Carth, the pilot of the steady paced vessel and decorated war hero… and Canderous, the Mandalorian.

Beep.

Heavy-lidded hazel eyes stared blankly down upon paling hands as they sat folded and still in the owners lap. The pilot of the ship was slouched over in the large black chair, disappearing from the sights of any onlooker merging from the entranceway. His motionless legs were sprawled before him, heavy boots crossed over one another in a lazy stature, while the upper foot tapped very slowly as the module before him made low mumbles and groans. His squared stubble-filled chin was resting heavily upon his chest that rose and collapsed with every long breath, and the impeccable twin hairs of his dark brown head of hair swung back and forth with leisure before a lazy right eye. Dark circles sat underneath both of the man's brown eyes, enriching the creases that bore upon his forehead. The entire sight was nothing but miserable upon any person who could stumble upon the scene – and it was quite out of character for the infamous Carth Onasi.

Beep.

The small blue hologram of the Ebon Hawk and the planet Korriban jotted yet another space closer to each other as the console beeped for the umpteenth time. The screen had been doing this for quite a while now, showing their exact distance and position via planet and vessel. Apparently, however, there was still another few hours before they could even consider entering the orbit of the Sith obscured planet. Carth lifted his chin slightly from his rippling chest, leaning slightly forward so that he could quickly press upon an accurately tiny button in which a different screen appeared. This screen, though morosely as dull as the last, might not in fact have the continual beeping to boot…

Beep.

If emotion was still a factor in Onasi's body, he may have screamed or thrown an angry arm against the screen, but not this time. For now, much instead of any action-taking procedure, the pilot sulked slowly back into his former defeated position and inhaled such a heavy breath of air that his silent companion was surprised there was any left on the ship. Canderous Ordo leaned his broad back heavily into the rest of the co-pilot chair and swiveled slightly about to face Carth. When the pilot made no acknowledgment to the gesture, the Mandalorian cleared his throat loudly. However, yet again, the pilot simply sat stiff in his seat, numb to his surroundings. Canderous ran his tongue with distaste across the front row of his jagged teeth and he tossed around the idea of throwing his giant gun with force towards the emotionless man. Instead he settled for whirring quickly back to face-forward and randomly tapped and pulled at every button and lever in reachable sight.

BEEP BEEP BEEP.

Carth's eyes widened as the screen before him flashed red and white signs of 'DANGER', 'ERROR', and 'RELEASING EXCESS BAGGAGE'. Shoving himself out of his chair, the pilot ran to the far right side of the Bridge and pulled an emergency lever that halted all former commands, though the 'excess baggage' had managed to already be released… whatever it was. Running a shaking hand across the top of his head, it took him only a moment of clustered questions (with help from Canderous' eluded chuckle) for the pilot to realize the Mandalorian was behind the meaning of it all. Raising a furrowed brow, reaching it almost to the top of his head, Carth sighed heavily. "Do not do that again."

Canderous, rolling back into his stone-hard facial dominance, leaned forward in the chair and rested his right forearm against the top of his legs. His cold eyes bore onto the pilot's back as he walked briskly towards his chair and caved into it with incredible vigor and momentum. He waited patiently until the man appeared to be suitably ready for criticism before taking his actions to the verbal stage. "You know, Onasi, as much as I enjoy watching you suffer, I could only handle it for a good twenty-four-hours… and now it's starting to get on my nerves."

Carth settled himself quickly into his former comfortable position and snapped his eyes plainly upon the Mandalorian with rising demise. His abdominal muscles tensed and released as his mind sorted through several disarrays of situations in which he could cause plain verbal mounting upon Canderous, but nothing suited the situation in a way that Carth was fully prepared to handle. "Then leave." _Oh great, flaming imbecile, that was really quite to the point._

If he weren't in such a funk perhaps the pilot would have noticed the Mandalorian giving him the impeccable look that he did, but of course Carth Onasi was in no state of mind to notice or care. And, it was all because of _her_. The _woman_ who played pretend this whole time in which he had entrusted all of his secrets and many feelings to her. The _woman_ who had destroyed all of his sense of fear and caution and that had shown him to live a little. The _woman_ who had opened his mind and given him a friend he could trust for once… and yet, the same _woman_ who gave him all of the secrets and feelings. The same _woman_ who had created all of his fear and cautious living. The same _woman_ who had killed his family and caused him to loose trust in everyone. That in which True Baill had helped Carth Onasi recover from, she herself had created. Ironic, perhaps, but then again that was just his damn luck.

Raising a drooping hand to the side of his face, rubbing away the sleep that created in the corner of his eye, Carth was disappointed to realize Canderous had still not taken heed to his advice. Leaning back to quickly discard the building pain that morphed atop his gut, the pilot opened his mouth to speak – but words did not come. Instead, a sympathetic sound skimming across the lines of a whine and a shutter erupted from the man's thinning lips, causing the Mandalorian to stare upon him inquiringly and with a taint of awkward.

Running his hand across the hilt of the giant blaster that sat to his side, Canderous lifted his shoulder into a shrug and a sideways grimace formed upon his face. "Look, Onasi, as horrible as you may be feeling now just imagine yourself in_ her_ position." Carth was silent, but managed to give him an inaccurate portray of 'I was not thinking about True' kind of look, in which the Mandalorian hissed through gritted teeth and threw himself up from the chair. "Don't give me that damn look! I know that's what is bothering you… so don't even pretend to change it to anything else."

Perhaps feeling ignited, or perhaps feeling threatened, Carth likewise shot up from his chair and stared blankly up towards the Mandalorian – who had a good foot or two above him in height. "For your information, Ordo, I have a son that my mind is currently wrapped around in focus!"

"Oh, _stop it_ Onasi." Canderous challenged, taking a step closer to the pilot in a towering movement. "Your boy pales in comparison to the traumatic revealing that happened a few nights ago."

"That is the least of my worries. As long as this mission stays focused on what we plotted to do, then I'm perfectly fine with it." Carth said in such an acidicly smooth tone that Canderous was almost forced to believe him. _Almost_.

The Mandalorian took another steady step forward, a sneering gleam reappearing upon his graying face. "Don't pretend to not care about her, Onasi. You came all this way and got so far along to the point in which you got attached –" his eyes steadily piercing down upon the fading face of Carth, "Admit it. Admit that you had other intensions involving that woman that didn't include finishing the mission and leaving."

The pilot's eyes narrowed immensely upon the Mandalorian as he spoke and moved, and his composure slowly slipped into a distant spot that mattered not to his current situation. As he sized the larger man up and down momentarily, trying his best to ignore the words that spilled from his soon-to-be-crushed jaw, the pilot inhaled with emphasis. "I want you at a good arm swinging length away from me."

"Damnit, Onasi, admit i-"

"Arm swinging length!"

Silence.

As the two men stared into each others distorted faces with rising fury and hate, the only sound that mingled around the enclosure was that of the beeping computer console, which had merrily managed to re-route itself to the screen where two tiny blue spots that revealed Korriban and the Ebon Hawk merged closer together. Finally, after what seemed to be ten minutes, Canderous scowled furiously into the pilot's face and turned quickly towards the door to walk out of it, managing to leave his mark with brisk and steady-toned words that hung in the air like the stench of the sand people enclave. "You just remember what I said. And you think about it before you go feeling sorry for yourself."

Watching after him until his large heavily toned back was far from sight, Carth sighed angrily and drooped his shoulders forward. As he stood alone in the nucleus of the Bridge, he closed his eyes as sadness and pain began to tear away at his heavy heart. He tried thinking of bad thoughts, then tried counting to ten, and hoped everything would be a dream when he opened them again. _I can't even imagine how she must be feeling right now… _Shaking away the moment of understanding that threatened to overtake his mind, the pilot slammed his eyes open and turned his attention back toward the module as he made his way back to the 'sulking chair'. When he had reached the console again, a new tiny screen popped up relating back to the 'excess baggage' that was now mingling somewhere in space. Leaning forward, Carth touched the screen with rising perplexity in immature hopes that it would somehow give him the answer. What had the Ebon Hawk released when Canderous had been rummaging around like the childish fool that he was?

A loud clamber of heavy footed steps echoed in from the hallway from where Canderous had disappeared to, in which Carth's ears twitched in anticipation. He turned around in quick preparation for round two with the ridiculous man with crossed arms. As he leaned himself lazily against the beeping monitor he stared upon the entrance way with a raised eyebrow – but he was frankly surprised to see Jolee standing in the entrance instead; much smaller then Canderous, and still dressed in sleeping wear, looking extremely confused and distressed. For a few moments the two stared at each other with rising confusion, and then the old man hooked a thumb over his shoulder and gaped an anxious jaw.

"_Why did all of my clothes just fly out the back of the ship!?_"

Carth sucked in a quick breath of air and flushed incredibly.

--

Korriban. The moment the ship set all four legs on the base of the planet, the entirety of her crew had no need to be Force sensitive to sense that it was perhaps the most dark and dangerous world in the Galaxy – playing host to trickery, lies, and such evil it could turn even the most sweet child into a type of predator. The planet alone was barren and sandy, looking (mistakenly) pleasantly tan with a light blue haze around its exterior upon looking at it from orbit. The surface alone was host to thousands of tombs, decorated with huge burial complexes to honor the fallen Dark Lords. Once, long before anything that still stood on the planet, the desolate world had become hellish and dangerous. Now, however still holding plenty of potential to be cruel, the wanderers of the world were fifty percent 'hopefuls' that dreamed of being accepted into the Sith. Some were fallen Jedi, others were just confused wanderers, and little to none had any potential chance whatsoever. The other fifty percent was made up of bounty hunters, mercenaries, assassins, and Sith trainees from the Sith Academy nearby. And, as crushingly apparent as it was, the absolute truth of the group's chance of getting into the main part of the Academy (where the Star Map no doubt was held) was rather slim to none.

The Ebon Hawk's main engines silenced into a low whir as the vessel began to shut down in the docking bay of the planet's capitol, Dreshdae. The town-ish area was a bit like the Jedi Academy in appearance, with much less cheeriness and kindness lolloping about. At a first glance the area seemed to be a giant lodge or mansion, full of unnecessary entertainments such as smuggling runs and exotic entertainments – both of which had no interesting impact on half of the people who arrived. Instead, it was the criminal activities, trade, transport docking, and the tavern referred to as The Drunk Side that made Dreshdae a top stop on any thug's list.

Inside of the Ebon Hawk, as the ships systems still worked on shutting completely off, most of the crew stood in the core of the vessel while mulling over possibilities of action – each rather surprised that they had not been already boarded and attacked by Sith. The only members who were in fact not readily in the discussion was Carth, who was still hidden inside of the Bridge, and True, who was standing off to the side sinking miserably into the shadows. No one had even attempted to rise either of their attention, however, perhaps in fear or retracting with missing limbs or verbal attacks.

"… I just don't think it is wise for us to be here. Especially after what just happened!" Juhani continued on into her 'we must retreat' speech that she had been harboring on about for the last five minutes at any chance she could muster.

"We have to be here! The map is on this planet somewhere, and time is not exactly on our side. Besides," Canderous retorted back at the Cathar, grabbing the hilt of his gun and cocking it with twinkling anticipation and dexterity, "We can handle a few Sith."

Juhani seethed through gritted teeth and rounded upon the Mandalorian with heavily dripping anger. "A couple Sith? A couple! There are hundreds of Sith here, and they probably are all well aware of who we are…"

"Query: as in 'we' are you referring to my Master?" HK jotted in, clicking his head upward as to gain a few possessive inches in height. "Statement: because the Master didn't even know she was Revan until a few days ago, such as the odds of anyone here knowing about that are very few. In fact, the exact percentage of anyone knowing is approximately nine-thousand-six-hundred-thirty-seven-"

"Alright, enough! We're not going to get anywhere unless the 'master' tells us where we are going!" Jolee butt in forcefully, stepping in the middle of the three arguers and throwing his hands into the air. He then shot True an inquiring glare that was followed suit by the rest of the crew. "Well? You had the vision. Where's the map?"

The scoundrel flicked her eyes towards Jolee with diluted pleasure and pressed her spine firmly into the crate at her back. Her thin lips were tightly pressed together and her nose was squished upwards as if a malodorous smell had entered into her nostrils. After a few moments of being stubborn, she finally struck her elbows into the crate and walked into the light with squinted eyes, as if any form of brightness killed her internally. She looked very exhausted with red eyes and unkempt hair and her usually golden skin had shifted its tone into a much more ashen shade. The sight caused Mission to gasp, in which she attempted to covert into a cough. The scoundrel spoke with cracking voice, "Dark. Dusty. There are tombs and statues…"

"So, like a cave?" Jolee retorted, seeming to be the only person who wasn't mildly shocked by True's appearance.

"No." True continued on in a flat tone, shaking her head slowly. "Not like a cave. A cave is what we saw on Tatooine. This is not a cave. It is much more… more…" Her voice trailed off into silence leaving the entirety of the crew to suck in their breaths in anticipation. But, she did not continue. As the silence made a full encirclement about the room, a sensible creak in the hallway from the Bridge caused everyone's heads to jerk in the direction, much like they had when the old man had addressed True.

Heart sinking into the pit of her stomach, as if a hundred-pound bantha had been dropped upon it, the scoundrel and pilot's eyes met in a collision of feelings, followed by an angry cloud of hate. Carth, who was now stepping into the center of the room and folding his arms into a stubborn stance, tensed and released his jaw as he stared upon the disruption of his core. To him, True appeared to be as beautiful as ever, though she was lacking a few sensible pounds and did appear to have gotten little to no sleep over the past few days. Still, however, just the sight of her narrow bone structure sent him into spasms of fury that were uncontrollable by even the largest Mandalorian in the galaxy.

There was bitter sweet silence in the dense air, merrily swarming around the scoundrel and pilot up until Jolee, who was seeming to feel rather loquacious, latched onto the moment and pursued to rattle the awkward situation away; much like an old woman trying to swat a kath hound away with a stick. "Well we better get off of this ship and start figuring out our plan." He began, picking up the lightsaber he had set down atop a nearby crate and fastening it to his belt. The entire crew stared upon him inquiringly and in slight disbelief, in which he mumbled something unintelligible to himself before exclaiming, "Oh yes, the old man _is_ going!"

True began to open her mouth to pursue into a persuading argument with him, but thought better of it, realizing it was a losing battle that only he would merge from as the victor. It was the ridiculous moments like these that never failed to become difficult to her; when the decision of who went out and who stayed on the ship came into play, though it was certainly something the scoundrel's weary mind was not in the mood for dealing with today. Staring at anything other then Carth – the wall, the floor, the round hairballs that hung from the under-arms of Zaalbar – True had taken this time to solely and completely jettison the option of 'pick and choose'.

Jolee, wavering his bushy full gray eyebrows up and down, sucked in a loud and irritable breath of air in annoyance to her actions. Then, as if he had made up his mind that he would take charge of the situation, he continued to stare Mission up and down as she gathered up her weaponry in preparation. "You are not going, kid. This planet is no place for children."

Mission, taken slightly aback and yet filled with little to no surprise, bent her lekku backward in small acknowledgment to his familiar grumble before continuing to strap a blaster rifle to her belt. As she pursued forward with her preparation, Juhani found it fit to butt in as well, stepping towards the twi'lek and grabbing just beneath her blue elbow. "You're not going, Mission."

Turning on her angrily, Mission drew her arm back and twisted her face into a lopsided smirk. "I can handle myself ya know! I 'aint some little kid." She then put her hand onto the handle of the rifle and withdrew it, waving it about in the Cathar's face. "Kid's can't handle weapons like this."

Juhani, rolling her cat eyes back and forth with the gun as it swung inches before her nose, eventually grabbed hold of the weapon and wrenched it from the girls grip. "Yes, that may be true, but a mouth like yours will get us into trouble."

"She's right. In fact, speaking of mouths, I'm not so sure you should come along either, Canderous." Jolee continued, giving the Mandalorian a small smile and turning towards Zaalbar and HK. "And you two make things too obvious and draw too much attention…" An uproar of yelling erupted as the crew bantered on about how (in short) they hated Jolee and very much wished he would die of old age, preferably this instant.

In the midst of the shouting and whining, True glanced ever-longingly over toward Carth as unapparent as she could make it seem. Sadly, as her gaze fell onto his face, she was half disappointed to realize he was staring directly back – though his eyes seemed to go through her, rather than perch atop her bridged nose like they usually did. Feeling suddenly queasy to her stomach, the scoundrel tried to offer him a thinning smile – which he did not return. Instead, the pilot turned his body fully away from her and made his way back into the Bridge from whence he originally had merged.

A tingling burn started to heat the souls of True's feet as she tossed the idea back and forth as to whether she should follow after him or not. As she watched steadily over his leaving backside, a very annoying memory of herself as a six year old girl flew back into her mind (though she wasn't exactly sure if the memory belonged to her fake identity, or Revan). The memory alone began with her declaring her undying love to the little blue twi'lek neighbor, Nabu. After this confession of love, Nabu had, quite frankly, shoved True into the sand and stalked away – and for some strange reason, this felt rather similar to that. _I have always regretted not running after Nabu…_ Shaking the thought away as quickly as her mind could swipe it, slightly disturbed, the scoundrel hazed over the hysterical crew members momentarily before pacing herself steadily after the pilot.

The dark hallway she had walked down many times seemed quite unfamiliar as her feet tread loudly down them, seeming to echo over the shouts of her companions back in the core. She cursed herself a thousand times over every time her heavy feet hit the ground, ringing the drums of her ears erratically with sounds that resembled a pot and a spoon beating together. When finally reaching the entranceway the scoundrel paused and ran her hands over the top of her messy hair, flattening it as paled fingers intertwined through the auburn knots like a comb. She stared sullenly upon the back of Carth's head as he sat doubled over in his chair, staring at the ground in his own silent muse. In fact, in the moments that she watched him, the only thing that seemed to even draw half of his attention was the computer's repetitive beeps which received nasty glares from him every time it chimed.

Beep.

"Shouldn't you be out there, calming them down?"

The sound of his voice caused her to jump and it took her a moment to realize he had addressed her, as opposed to talking lamely to himself or, perhaps, a hidden gizka under the computer console. How he had sensed it was her, she hadn't a clue, but it unnerved the scoundrel much like hell. Pressing her lips tightly together she forced her feet to enter into the ovular confinement and shuffled behind him with diffident glares. "How would I do that?"

Beep.

Without any movement whatsoever the pilot sneered lightly and inhaled a heavy breath. "They look up to you as if you are a queen. You have that overpowering affect on people." He paused and straightened his back slowly, rolling his spine backward as if he were a stretching cat, then stared blankly through the thick glass windows onto the docking port. Beyond the windows there was absolutely no commotion, other than a green twi'lek (using the end of his right lekku to pick his nostril) who was unmistakably the docking bay manager, in all of his glory. "You always have."

Drawing her eyes away from the strange docking manager outside, True looked down upon the top of Carth's head and called upon her heaviest dose of tolerance. "Er – yes, well." Evidently shocked by his words, the scoundrel gnawed the inside of her cheek while sifting through a labyrinth of confusion. "You're coming along too, I assume."

Beep.

Carth slammed his fist against the computer module – causing True to jump yet again – and it was in that moment that he realized how amazingly durable the ship was created as an immense amount of pain seared through the knuckles of his hand and wrapped around the blue and purpled hinted veins up toward his wrist. The feeling was much like that of dipping your limb into a bucket of molten lava with burning, irritating, bone-crushing pain. Clutching his teeth together in fury the pilot then continued to flap his hand loosely about in failing attempts to cease the pain.

Eyeing him warily True quickly closed the gapping space between them and grabbed his hand before he had any time to react at her closing presence. His eyes snapped up to her face as she stared upon his hand; the small string attached to his heart beginning to tug miserably at his emotions. She looked tired and weak, very much like a deprived child, though the touch of her hand across his wrist proved otherwise. He didn't have to be Force sensitive to feel the strong power that radiated from her body like a hot fire, warm to the touch. She was so powerful. He had always known this, but he had always assumed she was just a particularly strong individual – not a former Sith Lord. As she examined his hand, turning it back and forth into painful positions he didn't much appreciate, she finally ceased the motions and flattened his hand into the palm of hers. "Here, let me fix this with the Force. I have been practicing…" And with those words Carth quickly jerked his hand away from the scoundrel and cradled it with protection away from her, ignoring the confusion in her raised eyebrows. "It won't hurt, Carth."

"Don't you dare use that bantha on me."

"Wha – bantha? It's not bantha. It's powerful –"

"It's _power_. It's a weapon. It's dangerous." He cut her off immediately, giving her an overabundance of glares.

True dropped her hand to her side and stared upon the pilot with disbelief cast upon her dried face. _I try to help you, and you insist on being difficult… or afraid…_ "That's it, isn't it!? You're scared of the Force." True snapped back, watching him stand up in urgency and stomp towards the door. Her eyes followed after him with bewilderment and her voice rose to a yell. "Oh, great! So you're going to just… stand up and walk out on me!"

Beep.

Carth paused in his step, turning wildly about on his heel. The computer console beeped in its erythematic annoyance behind the scoundrel and it only caused his anger to erupt even higher then it already was. Quickly, with such fury that it seemed to bounce off of the walls and aim directly for the woman, the pilot grabbed the bottom of his yellow jacket's sleeve and tugged at it hurriedly, pulling out his right arm free from the fabric. True stared upon him inquiringly, extremely unsure of his actions, watching with numb expression as he discarded his jacket completely. Then, with horrific realization, she watched as the yellow piece of clothing was thrown with great force past her left forearm, flapping loudly against the module behind her.

Carth was slightly amazed that she hadn't even flinched as his jacket soared narrowly passed her, but then again, he had little reason to be shocked by anything she did anymore. She was, after all, the prior Lord of the Sith, therefore probably playing host to many _many_ different surprises. While the beeping subsided quickly, as if the computer had just been scolded by its father, the man's hazel eyes looked slowly up towards the woman's unfazed glare with ostensible hatred. "I'm not scared of the Force, _Revan_. But it has done as much damage to my life as any other bastard with a powerful weapon has." He began; chest heaving up and down as if he had just ran a mighty marathon. "You stick to your invisible little powers and I'll stick with my blaster. Enough sai-"

"I'm so sorry, Carth."

The pilot's mouth paused in mid sentence as her lexis mulled over his own, catching his feelings within his own throat much like a gizka tangled up in a plastic bag. Her pallid skin reflecting off of the blue galaxy map did strange things to his mood, diluting his fury into a pitiful stage of sorrow. Not so very long ago, before he knew that his woman before him was Revan, he had always pictured the Sith Lord as a powerful person. Perhaps even a man – strong, tall, muscular, intimidating, and evil to the core in every sense of the word. This woman he had been traveling with, however, was none of those things. Strong in the sense of a mind, yes, but not physically. She was not tall, muscular, or intimidating in any way – and had never shown an evil bone in her body. This person standing before him was Revan, though. And she always would be.

True's world faded slowly away as Carth snapped his body towards the exit and left her to the silence of the tenor.

--

As soon as the chosen crewmembers stepped onto the surface of the planet the dense air of Korriban swam into their lungs, nearly choking all four of them in turn. The four present members consisted of (after the slugfest that had occurred back on the ship) True, Juhani, Jolee, and Carth – whom aside from coughing through the humid impact of oxygen, all had squinted with putrid expressions to the surroundings of the docking port upon laying their eyes. They were immediately intercepted from entrance by the twi'lek who seemed to be intimately interested in his nose, who stalked quickly up to them with wide fowled grins At first glance, True had expected him to speak with diction that was nearly impossible to understand, but was disappointed to realize she could easily translate his words. As he spoke to their facind attention spans, he encircled around a very short explanation of how he had already seen their ship here before and was glad to see it return yet again. The four members exchanged quick looks of curiosity, but inwardly they really had little interest in where Davik chose to fly his ships. The alien had then continued on to explaining to them about how the docking fee was going to be twenty-five credits – which was easily persuaded to the price of free; this time without any flirtatious banter on True's part.

The walk through the town was uneventful at first, allowing the group time to ask around for any information on Star Maps, which usually gave them the separated reactions of drunken explicates or confused glares. The inside of the domb-shaped building was much more dull inside then it had been outside – though, opposite of the lack in bodies on the exterior of it – Dreshdae was heavily populated internally. There were all kinds of shapes and colors of aliens and humans who were each walking dully through long lines of traffic, some carrying heavy packages, some carrying luggage and suitcases, and some carrying drunken passed out friends away from the tavern. Throughout the crowds, however, True could always spot the Sith Students of the Academy; dressed in full gray uniforms and wearing expressions of superiority, though most of them still appeared to be in the age of disrespect, or better put as 'padawans' to the Jedi.

And, as soon as they had a mild taste of the obvious difference between a student and a traveler, it didn't take long before they crossed paths with a very strict Sith teacher and his pupils. The teacher, a man with slicked black hair and an extensive amount of scarred facial skin, was yelling furiously upon his students who were apparently answering his twisted questions with incorrect answers. Upon fumbling into their paths in the busy hallways of the town, the four wanderers casually attempted to slip by him nonchalantly as he continued on his raging banter toward the students. But of course, due to their radiating curiosity wave, the man sensed the group's presence and turned on them anxiously. "You there! Jedi!"

True winced as the man called out to her, and eyed another patron who simultaneously recognized her as a Jedi and pointed with excitement towards the saber swinging at her hip, as if it was a sign of great pedigree. Jolee tugged at the side of the scoundrel's black robe in caution, much like he was trying to force her to dis-acknowledge the man. Groping her inner mind for all of the patience she could muster, the scoundrel turned towards the teacher with a lopsided smile and ripped the cloth of her robe from the old man's groping hand. "Yes?"

Satisfied that she had stopped to make notice of him, the teacher squared his shoulders and pursed his lips with power-stricken importance. "These students have proven to me to be useless, or otherwise dumb. How should I punish them?" He glanced at the three cowering students each in turn, and suddenly flashed a grin that looked like he'd been overdoing illegal spices and should go invest in serious amounts of therapy. "Should I use Force lightning? That always puts on quite a show. Or should I make it so that they lose control of all of their bodily fluids? Though, that would make quite the mess."

True, becoming more disgusted with each suggestion, furrowed her brows and eventually cut him off as he continued to list his sick ways of torture. "Why don't you just shoot them all with a blaster - " Jolee stabber her ribs with his bony elbow and she drew in a sharp breath of air. "Nyuhhh – I mean – why would you need to torture them?" She said through winces and chokes as her entire left side erupted into sharp pain.

The teacher brushed an annoyed hand in their direction and groaned. "Ohh you softies are pathetic. Fine, I'll just deal with this myself. Hmmm, lemme see, ah!" And without a moment's hesitation, he threw his hands forward and struck the students with one-million watts of lightning. The pupil's bodies each stiffened upward while shaking with jolts of pain. They screamed and yelped with voices that echoed throughout the building like a bomb – and then there was silence. Three crispy dead bodies lay motionless on the floor, emitting putrid odors and steaming black smoke. The teacher clapped his hands together as if to free them from non-existent filth, and stepped over each of their bodies in the direction of the Academy, disappearing down the hallway.

The group stood with horrific expressions, looking about them with curiosity to notice that no one seemed to be even the slightest bit phased by what just happened. Juhani, True, and Carth probably would have proceeded to stand there in shock for hours if Jolee hadn't shooed them away, ushering them in the direction of the cantina.

"Damn…" Carth finally stated as they sifted their ways through the busy crowd, twisting their bodies in the ways of snakes as to get through. "That type of thing must happen all the time around here."

True nodded to herself as the funny image of a janitor walking by with a push broom, sweeping up the bodies across the floor exclaiming, "Gods! Not again!" popped into her head. She shook the image away quickly as a blonde haired girl in a gray uniform shoved into her arm forcefully, knocking her sideways into Carth who caught her softly but in mild shock. The two exchanged looks of awkward before he set her up straight, and she searched around furiously for the culprit who had shoved her – though she had no need to look very far.

"Watch where you're going next time, Hopeful." The girl spat with demise, staring True up and down while the two lackeys behind her chuckled and sneered. The eloping crowd began to move around the two women as the scoundrel and young girl stared at each other in the center of the traffic, their companions close at their heels.

Sighing loudly and with great emphasis, True chewed the bottom of her lip and plastered a fake smile to the corners of her mouth. "My name is _True_ – and you had plenty of room to go around me, clumsy."

The girl dropped her eyes narrowly and threw her hands to her hips. "And I'm Lashow. I am a student at the Academy, _Hopeful_." She replied, saying her own name as if it was one to remember while leaning toward the scoundrel's face. "And you better not mess with me."

True snorted loudly and shook her auburn hair about the top of her shoulders with a highly attributed smile. _If only this girl knew who I was_… she highly considered challenging the younger woman, but decided better of it while placing the palm of her hand directly over Lashow's face and shoving her crooked little nose away from her own. "Right. Well like I said before, _Fatso_, my name is True." Juhani nearly choked herself from the restraint of laughter and Carth actually chuckled – though Jolee seemed to be finding nothing even remotely amusing about the situation.

"I said Lashow not Fatso!" She hollered back, causing more then just their small encirclement to hear the exclamation. Separate people began to eye her and then laugh in turn. The blonde girl turned a dark shade of crimson and threw her hand to the hilt of her saber, preparing to withdraw it and – more then less likely – stab True in the face. However, before she could react or reach it, the lightsaber from her belt lifted upward on its own and bashed her in the nose, gushing blood everywhere. Screaming with pain, Lashow threw her hands to her face as tears poured down her cheeks, and she cursed True over and over again, swearing that she would "pay for this" before running off into a crowd of laughing people. Staring blankly at the empty space where the girl used to be, True took a moment to digest what had just taken place, then whirred quickly about on her heel to stare with folded arms upon Jolee. "Great thanks, now I'm going to have her after me the whole time we're here."

In response, the old man simply shrugged his shoulders and chuckled.

--

The cantina was surprisingly not very full, though it was extremely dark and difficult to make out what was an actual living and breathing life form from a small stool – especially when it came to the smaller people, like the Jawa's, who True had successfully managed to trip over and knock to the ground upon entry. Other then that, however, it was quite obvious that no one inside of the cantina could even point them in a sensible direction, given the fact that they were so drunk they couldn't even make out their own finger from… well… other small limbs.

As the sun set steadily and easily against the edge of the planet, making the room even more dark then it already was, the four members of the Ebon Hawk's crew joined together at the bar top and watched as people slowly started to lollop and wobble out, screaming fowl language and tripping over their own feet. There was only one body that managed to enter as opposed to exit; this was a tall purple-skinned twi'lek woman who made her way swiftly to the back of the cantina at a private table where she sifted into the darkest shadows and disappeared. She seemed, however, to be of absolutely no significance, and True was completely finished with attempting to talk to drunk women who repeatedly attempted to flirt with or curse profoundly at her. These actions not only confused the scoundrel, but began to annoy her as well.

As they sat at the bar, running thin fingers over the top of the table while examining dried blood stains and strange dents, the bartender walked quickly up to them, grinning widely while cleaning out the bottom of a large glass that was stained with a strange green liquid that steamed and sizzled at the touch of his rag. "What can I get ya' today?"

"Four Terisian Ale's please - "

"Make it three." True cut Jolee off as he rose began to rise four erected fingers, dropping some loose credits on the top of the counter and turning away from the bartender. "I'm not done searching yet. But, drinks on me."

Her three companions exchanged grave looks of confusion, and the scoundrel was long gone before she could notice Carth jump quickly out of his chair and start after her. It was a useless gesture, however, because Jolee hooked onto the corner of his arm and jarred the pilot backwards while explaining, "If a woman buys you a drink, boy, then you sure as hell drink your drink and leave her be."

Carth, dropping back into his seat, stared upon the old man with disapproval and annoyance. He dropped his heavy fists to the bar top in frustration, causing the recently received ale to slosh slightly over the side of the glass, spilling drops of golden liquid onto the counter. "She shouldn't go off on her own in a place like this." He mumbled angrily, swatting at his two strands of hair in annoyance.

Outside of the cantina, aside from the people who were clumsily exiting the tavern, there were very few people in the hallowed halls that had any impact at all upon the scoundrel's interests. Perhaps it had quieted down because of the fast-approaching midnight, or perhaps most of the crowd had killed each other in a giant battle of the fittest – either way, there were very little amounts of remaining civilians. As her wandering continued on for what seemed to be thirty minutes, there was only one eerie group that passed her by with murmurs and pointed fingers that clearly atoned towards the double-bladed light saber at her side. They made good measures to steer clear of her path while lurking against the walls in the most slick of ways, pretending to be focused elsewhere when her eyes happened to bounce toward them. It was curious, she found herself wondering, that people who were constantly around lightsabers and Sith would be phased in the slightest by someone like her – especially since, as far as they all knew, she was a fallen Jedi that held no potential at all to even kill a rat. Unless, of course, they knew something she held very low to their knowledge… like how she was once the Dark Lord of the Sith. Gulping loudly, True slowed her walk and glanced around her with anticipation. Hell, for all she knew, there might have been pictures hanging in the Academy of her once glorious face, or perhaps she was the front page in every Sithy newspaper. In all oblivious honesty, these people could very possibly know who she was – or worse, _they could know that I belong here._

Sucking her lips into her mouth, True threw herself into the nearest opening as soon as the thought processed into her mind. How could she even scatter-plot such an idea? Belonged here… did she belong here? _Of course you do._ Shuffling her feet about uncomfortably, the scoundrel glanced back into the dark hallway once again and watched as the mysterious group slipped away into the diluted darkness of the vestibule. Exhaling with relief, as if she had just bested a sneaky foe, she turned about slowly on her heel to examine the room she had courted herself into. Upon first glance it appeared to be an empty library of sorts – but, after few moments of searching, she realized it was not at all a library but instead a small room of records that listed deceased beings. Also, soon after this shocking and disturbing realization, she noticed that she was not at all alone.

Stumbling from around the corner, scaring her half to death, an extremely young man who didn't look at all fit to be merging from his early twenties came hurrying past the isle she was in, not seeming to notice her, and slammed a book down on a far desk in the corner. His black-gloved hand reached quickly up for the dangling switch for the overhanging light, which he tugged at mercilessly, pooling a yellow glow upon a black book that he flung open dramatically. It was remarkably strange to True how extremely familiar the shape of the man's back looked, since she had had no time at all to lie glance upon his face. He had a very strong body, tall, thin, and a very broad shoulder space. Strange…

"A pretty lady like yourself should not be wandering along by herself."

The voice. It sounded almost identical to Carth's and it startled her, much like Carth usually did when he spoke to her without eye-to-eye contact. In fact, it took her a moments time to even realize it was the boy who had spoken as opposed to a snooping Carth. When she failed to answer, the doubled-over figure straightened his back in a flash and whirred around to face her, leaving the scoundrel just above the thinning line of breathless.

His face was thuggishly handsome with its high cheekbone structure and the narrowness of his squared jaw. The dark head of hair atop his scalp was slicked back to perfection, all except for one stranding group that hung lazily above his right eye, refusing to stay back with the rest. Everything about this boy was in fact an almost spitting image of Carth, all except for his glass blue eyes – which were presumably that of his mothers.

Stiff jawed and speechless, True wished HK was standing by her to exclaim the exact calculated odds of her running into Carth Onasi's son in a room like this, at a time like this, perhaps in the most inconvenient time – much like this. She hadn't even noticed her obvious intensive staring until the boy shuffled around uncomfortably and swung a hand in front of her face in a 'hello?' kind of gesture. Taking a step backward as to regain her sanity, True cleared her throat loudly and shoved her hand to her temple, rattling her head about for a moment. "Ahh. Yes, well, I could tell you the same thing." _Though of course you wouldn't since he isn't a 'pretty lady'!_ Inwardly, she was kicking herself for her appetency in stupidity.

The boy raised an eyebrow adjacently in obvious confusion, and then quickly shuffled it aside as if he _sort of_ understood what she had been attempting to say. "Don't you uh," he leaned forward slightly with a sneaky grin upon his face, much like Carth usually pulled on her when he was trying to be accurately charming. "Think you have better places to hide then in a eulogy?"

Slanting her mouth into an obvious smirk, True grabbed the inside of her robe and flounced it towards her navel as to conceal the lightsaber at her hip from view. "Who said I was hiding?"

The boy, quite amused by this, pointed lamely at her side and gestured towards the door. "I saw you sneak in here as if someone was out to get you." He paused to chuckle at her perplexed expression, then turned back around so that he could shuffle more diligently through his book. "So, who are you hiding from, exactly?"

Fumbling about with her tongue in her mouth for a moment, True juggled her options around before landing on the most obvious one. "Myself." Though, upon recollection, it made no sense what so ever. "Er – so, why are you in here, if you're not hiding?"

Sucking in a quick breath, followed by a very annoyed and yet hintingly sullen sigh, the boy flipped a page with wandering eyes and ran his index finger down the thin, dry page. "I'm looking for a friend."

Tugging at the bottom of her earlobe in the essence of making sure she had heard him correctly, True snatched one of the books from a near shelf and flung it open into her palms as to make certain that she was in the place she believed herself to be in. "Oh yes, I usually search for my friends in the obituaries as well." The scoundrel said under her breath, flipping through the pages of the tome herself so that she didn't feel so awkward or misplaced. "So, how would I go about getting into the Sith Academy?"

As nonchalant as she had attempted to make it seem, the boy slammed the book on the desk closed, sending a large cloud of dust to accumulated and summersault through the thinning air, then twisted his head over his shoulder to stare upon her with heavy eyes. "Why would you want to get into the Academy?" His tone of voice was dripping with the oblivious sense of him feeling threatened by her question.

Pausing in mid page-turn, the scoundrel raised her eyes from the book and stared upon the side of his narrow face. She took heavy mental note in the belittled sense in his voice, soaking in the look deep within the cores of the boy's sights. "Oh, I dunno," She began, closing the book softly and weighing the heavy option of wiping him out with the wave of her hand. "I think it would be fun to shoot that… lightning-stuff from my fingernails." Lie. Of course it was a lie. She could already do that, which she knew, but he didn't – and hopefully would never find out about anytime soon.

Nearly un-convinced by her persuasive batting of the innocent eyelashes, the boy turned fully around yet again. He leaned against the table with the palms of his placid hands placed firmly on the edge, rolling his shoulders high into his neck with a very chilling expression – highlighted with a complacent grin. "The only way someone like you will ever get into the academy – and I mean _ever_ - " he made sure to elongate the word 'ever' as obviously as he could, causing her to shuffle her feet around furiously with the added swat at her saber, in which the scoundrel had to remind herself that she 'didn't have it'. "You'll have to convince Yuthura Ban that you're worthy of the Sith's time."

_Amazing. Yet again another giant hoop that I have to jump through in order to find the map._ True rolled her eyes high into the air and buried her shoulder into the corner of the bookshelf, running a shaky hand over her face. After a moment of contemplation, the scoundrel ruffled her auburn locks about the top of her head and then sighed heavily as her attention fell back onto the boy. "Alright. How do I accomplish this?"

The Sith student chuckled a deep and throaty laugh, shaking his head back and forth, causing the wavering strand of hair to brush along the edge of his forehead. "You have to receive one of these." And with that, he dropped his hand quickly into the neck of his gray uniform and withdrew a long chain with a hanging medallion on the end. As it swung beneath the tip of his fingers, the tiny round plate glimmered in the small luminance of light and blared into the scoundrel's eyes. It truly wasn't all that impressive, unless the amount of blinding was a factor in the making, she wasn't personally all that interested in it. But, the Sith obviously were.

"Right." The scoundrel began, leaning away from the case and taking a steady step forward, reaching out to examine the medallion. "How do I get one?"

As if triggered, the boy flung his hand backward and shoved the plate messily back into his shirt. "Well, only student have them. So you can either receive one, or…" his voice tread steadily elsewhere and a hearty gulp erupted from his throat as strange realizations submerged to the top of his mind. "Well, I best get going." And with that, he slipped idly past her, swishing quickly around her hip and clipping the edge of her lightsaber with his outer thigh. He paused in the doorway to look upon her inquiringly, wondering silently what on earth was so big and bulging from the woman's robes…

"Wait – I didn't quite catch your name…" True started, turning about with him and diligently attempting to ward his mind away from the confusion.

Very disinclined to tell her this, the boy stiffened greatly and squared his shoulders back as to puff his chest forward in a 'manly' gesture. "Dustil." He mumbled quickly, "Dustil Onasi."

--

As the scoundrel made her way back from her encounter with Carth's son, walking with heavy feet of hesitation, she was mortally surprised to find herself extremely alone in the hallway. The darkened silver walls of the building were dull and dismal, leaving no room for any sense of cheeriness, though she rarely found any reason inside of herself to feel it anymore. Sighing quietly, which seemed much louder with the lack of any other sounds to rattle her eardrums, True clamped onto the swirling thoughts in her mind and found very little pleasure in it. There was the mission, the face she was Revan, the evil temptations that relapsed her urges – and foremost, in her twisting head, she worried about the flaming imbecile pilot, who (as far as she was concerned) could go hyperspace himself. However, the fact she had just found his paranoid son was a lingering pester on the scoundrel's system. _Should I even tell him? _She literally paused in step to play out the scenario in her imaged mind as the entrance to the Cantina grew heavily in view, and then shook her head steadily._ He'd probably just become angrier if he knew… _

Feet picking back up to a sulky pace, True was in arms-length of the edge of the doorway when her small body was slammed mercilessly into the silver walls she had so recently been staring upon in demise. As her left forearm and ribs collided painfully into the chilling interior with a loud bang and a small erupting yelp, the scoundrel flung her body around to square it off with the culprit, half surprised to see it was the blonde Sith student with her two buddies yet again. Whetting her dry lips with anticipation, the scoundrel rose both of her eyebrows in mock denial to what had jut occurred. "You have strange erotic pleasures in slamming people around, don't you?"

"You embarrassed me earlier today!" Lashow said spitefully into True's face, mulling over the scoundrel's words while shoving both of her shoulders sharply as to slam the top of her spine into the wall.

A grin tugged at the edges of True's cheeks. "You embarrassed yourself."

Lashow shoved her again, harder this time, if at all possible for her scrawny arms to muster. "Now you will pay, Hopeful."

And, yet again, she shoved her. True had finally had enough. "_Don't_ do that, again."

"Let's show this Hopeful who's who around here." One of the two boys said quickly over the scoundrel's own words, elbowing the other lackey in the side with excitement. Lashow, quick to respond to their urges, then withdrew the red lightsaber from her belt and ignited it with the resemblance to a streaming line of fire. The blood of the blade sent pleasurable quakes down True's back, nipping playfully at her senses, daring her to do it. _Kill her. Kill her now._

And for once, at least for the first time since True's 'new' identity, she let the sadistic urge of her mind control her body with the upmost sense of capriciousness. Barely lifting her arm as her gray eyes flashed darkly, the scoundrel's hand clenched into a cupping formation inches before Lashow's throat. The motion had undeniably inexorable intentions, which were affirmed as the Sith student dropped her red saber to the ground with a loud clank and clenched helplessly at her neck. Tears began to form in the corners of her squinting eyes, and Lashow began to sputter and spurt as her feet rose with rapidness from the ground. The strange thing was, as the student began to grow weaker and weaker of life, the scoundrel began to feel more and more strong, as if she was feeding from the girl's life with some hidden Force power – and, sick as it was, True enjoyed the feeling of it so much that she began to laugh. And the laugh was not a funny laugh, or the kind of laugh that contagiously caused others to join in, but rather the kind of laugh that ruined someone's life. The sight of the whole situation alone was horrid; True strangling the girl almost ten feet into the air, grinning ear to ear.

The two boys behind her backed slowly away, horror and shock filling the expressions of their ashen faces. One of them began to shout, "Help! Someone get out here!" This was quickly answered by every member of the Cantina running out in hurry, each pausing and gaping at the picture.

"True – drop her!"

Then, when Lashow appeared to have barely any life left in her, True threw the young woman into the opposite wall adjacent to watching her limp body slip quickly down the wall, landing at the foot of it in an inert heap. It took her a few moments to calm down and actually realize what had just happened, when a heavy weight of horrified truculence overcame her. _Oh gods – what have I done…_ her gray eyes flicked quickly towards the mollified crowd, half of them looking rather impressed, while the other half looked rather shell-shocked. It was in that moment that she had realized the person that had commanded her to 'drop' the now lifeless body was, of course, Carth – who stared upon her with revulsion, quite beside himself with an ineffable expression. The scoundrel began to feel weak in the knees…

Jolee and Juhani caught a strong hold onto both of her arms in the nick of time as she began to fall heavily towards the hard ground, their hands wrapping tightly around her elbows and hauling her back to her feet. "I don't know what came over you, kid, but…"

"That was quite impressive."

True, Jolee, and Juhani all turned quickly around to stare upon a purple skinned twi'lek in a gray Sith unifrom, who's thin hands were placed delicately upon her hip's, smiling with the upmost approval.

"Impressive!?" Carth mused loudly while walking over towards the others and staring with heavy disgust upon True. The purple twi'lek removed her right hand from her hip and waved it in front of the pilot's face with mild irritation.

"Who is this?" She inquired of True, glazed-over purple eyes staring upon the pilot with distaste.

True glanced angrily upon Carth, and then shifted her gaze onto Jolee and Juhani. "These are my… slaves."

All three of her companions shuffled their feet about in obvious annoyance to this, clenching their fists and considering greatly upon retaliating the comment. Jolee was the only one of the three who had managed to actually say something, then realized better of it. "We're wha – I mean, the master is always good to us, when she isn't beating us." True left herself an inward note to actually hit him for that line.

Hesitant, the twi'lek tilt her head to the side and lowered her voice to an overpowering hum that could lull an infant to sleep. "Very well, Jedi."

"How did you know I was a Jedi?" Perhaps it was a dumb question, but it was worth a shot in the attempts of finding out how truly powerful this woman could prove to be – and, perhaps, it would settle her annoying inner inquiry as to if anyone knew she was Revan; because if anyone truly did know, it would undoubtedly be this woman.

"The Force billows off of you like a tidal wave. And…" The twi'lek paused to allow True's ears to ring in longing for more. "You killed that girl with such power and strength that you could not be anything other than a Jedi… a _dark_ Jedi."

The scoundrel felt her mouth go dry and the lapping of her tongue did little to renew it.

"And who are you?" Jolee butt in quickly, though True was rather unsure why, and extremely annoyed by it.

The twi'lek looked yet again morally shocked to be addressed in such a social manner by True's 'slaves'. "My name," She began, flashing her eyes back up to the scoundrel. "Is Yuthura Ban."

"Ahhh," Jolee continued on as if he was still in deep conversation with the Sith Teacher, nudging True slightly. "The master has been looking for you."

"This – this _slave_ of yours is strange…" Yuthura said through gritted teeth, running her long fingernails around the bottom of her chin in deep thought.

"Oh, yes, well he's old and senile. I'll be _putting him down soon_ – sell him to the glue factory or something –" Jolee's eyes widened to such a large mass that he looked as if he had just seen a ghost. "Anyway, what were you saying?" True said quickly, shooing her three companions away with a swift hand. Jolee and Juhani scattered hurriedly off (Jolee mumbling angrily to himself or perhaps to the inattentive Cathar), but Carth lurched for a moment with uncertain intensions.

Yuthura watched them all sulk quickly toward the Cantina and made good measures to make sure they were long gone before continuing. "I can tell you want to be accepted into the Academy -"

"Oh? Am I that obvious?" True interrupted her, raising a narrow eyebrow.

"Well," Yuthura corrected herself, countering her crystallized eyes onto the scoundrel's narrow bone structure. "_Everyone_ wants to be accepted into the Sith. We are power, and victory, and strength in every sense of the word. We control this Galaxy – unlike your Jedi counselors who do nothing but hold you back and use you each as their puppets." True latched onto her lower lip and dropped her gaze to the floor as Yuthura continued on. "We alone will soon direct the fate of the entirety of planets in this system, and will rule over it all in one powerful sweep. There is not one human or being foolish enough to know otherwise… but anyway, you could become a great Sith. I can tell – and I can help you. Does that interest you at all, Jedi?"

_Become a Sith again? _True found sense of her mind and latched onto the simplest words she could, backtracking her thoughts to more reasonable answers that would not uproot unwanted questions. "Yes. It does."

Yuthura smiled with her thin lips, and she grabbed hold of her left lekku and stroked it slowly with her hands. "I like you, Jedi. I will train you myself… Let us go to the Academy immediately…"

"Wait," True said softly, walking past the twi'lek and stepping in the lancing direction of the tavern. "I must get my servants."

Slightly shocked by this, Yuthura dropped her hands from the stroking and exhaled in disappointment. "Very well. But they are your responsibility."

True simply nodded her head and turned swiftly around as to run into the Cantina. The words of Yuthura still sloshed around in her mind like a coat of fresh paint that was still gleaming with importance in the sun of her thoughts. The twi'lek's words made so much sense, and they were so incredibly true. The council had not only used _her_ as a puppet when they gave her a new identity, but they continued to use all of their pupils as puppets. The Jedi were scared of the Force, scared of its power – and she had tasted the true expense of it once. She had been Revan, the Sith Lord and the most powerful human in the galaxy... so why not do it again? After all, the Jedi Council was apparently destroyed by Malak, so what was even holding her back anymore?

"Well, 'master', what did she say?" Jolee's voice said in a low mumble as the scoundrel absent mindedly approached the bar. Carth and Juhani were both sitting next to him, though the old man was the only one with a drink, and each one was staring upon her with seething disappointment.

"I am accepted. Let's go."

Carth and Juhani were already up and out of their seats, not looking exactly happy, but certainly ready for some action. Jolee then swiveled around in his own chair and raised his hands into a 'halting' gesture. "Wait – we can't just go in there now. You're not ready!"

True attempted to laugh, but it barely made its way up to her mouth when he was countering over her. "Don't you dare laugh at this! I'm serious! There are so many memories in there that can just gulp you up and consume you – and before you know it, you'll be back to your old self agai-"

"I can handle myself!" She retaliated with an acid filled tone. The few people left in the Cantina all seemed to quiet down and stare at True as her rising fury became publically apparent. Jolee allowed his jaw to do a series of pushups, though no words came out, and before he knew it the scoundrel was flaring her robes in a huff behind her and running quickly out of the door. Carth looked completely ashen and pale, but nonetheless he followed quickly after her, nearly in the same footnote as Juhani.

"I just don't think it's a good idea to go running in there without preparation, True!" Jolee called after her with a cupped hand, but she had already long gone to any acknowledgment to his words. Swiveling back around on his bar stool, the old man returned to his drink, gripping it tightly in between his dry hands to the point that it quaked with the threat of shattering. "Puh. Dumb child. Dumb, dumb, dumb! If she falls to the Dark Side again without any real preparation for this, then I swear I'm…" He glanced from the corner of his eye to an accompanying woman that sat a seat away from him at the bar, staring upon him with confusion. Grumbling angrily, Jolee raised his bushy gray eyebrows and spat in her direction. "Blah, blah, blah – the old smelly man who lost all of his clothes in a baggage release is talking to himself!" And then, as the strange woman retracted her face with both disturbed and frightened expressions, Jolee downed the last bit of his ale and rushed hurriedly after the others.

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**Ahh, so there it is. Latest update. It's not all that exciting – but holy wow I have been SO busy with school (junior year), cross country, and my family problems. **

**But, enough about me, read and review and THANKS FOR STICKING WITH ME GUYS!**


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